Twice Loved
by loolupe
Summary: Hermione Granger is living a quiet life in California. Any other woman would be bitter, but she realizes that most women search their entire lives and never find true love, and she’s been blessed with the love of two amazing men.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 – Looking Back**

**Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter, the characters, or anything dealing with it, it all belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. Only the plot is mine.**

Hermione Granger was at peace at last.

It was here, surrounded by the newly landscaped garden that she finally felt safe, safe from both physical and emotional harm. The small house she'd bought only a little over a year ago was now finally starting to feel like home. When she had first moved to California, she had felt so isolated and alone, but at the time she had felt that it was really the only option that she had. Here, the wizarding community had appealed to her, both because of their love of the muggle way of life, and because of the simplicity of life. Though the witches and wizards here had heard about the war going on in Britain, they'd never really understood the 'Pureblood vs. Muggle' mentality. And that was just fine with her.

As she sat on the wrought iron park bench she found at the small muggle antique shop in Cambria, she looked around at her new, absolutely amazing garden. She'd really just wanted to do the landscaping project so she could have a place she could go to, to forget the craziness of the past twelve years. The ivy covered stonewalls surrounding her backyard complemented the green velvet-textured foliage contrasted with flowers in reds, deep purples and orange. The magenta bougainvillea plants had been planted by the previous owner but they had been allowed to grow on the ground unrestrictedly. Shane and Michelle, the wonderful husband and wife landscaping team Hermione hired, were able weave the plants through some lattice creating a beautiful floral barrier from the rest of the world. There was a stone path leading from the French doors to a small clearing, surrounded by tall grasses and hydrangeas, where her park bench and granite topped bistro set were set up. This was where she sat now, with a cup of tea and a list of the new titles arriving at the library on Monday.

The ocean breeze and the light mist rolling in from the west reminded Hermione of home. She sat down and brought her knees up to her chest, glad that she was wearing a jogging suit and not a skirt. She flicked off her flip-flops and immediately stretched out her legs, her thoughts so far away that she didn't notice her brown hair swirling gently around her face. Though she was trying, she was being completely unsuccessful at concentrating on the work she had brought home for the weekend. If her friends back home could only see her now, they would more than likely find it hard to come to terms with the fact that she now lived such a quiet and peaceful lifestyle.

It had been five long years since the final battle, and as Hermione sat in her garden, she reflected on the price of her newfound peace. After the war, it had been embarrassingly easy for Hermione to attain a high profile job as an Auror. The ministry had been eager to hire Harry, Ron and herself. It seemed as if they had not even had the time to heal from the battle wounds they in the final battle, before they were whisked away by the ministry, recruited to help bring in the remaining Death Eaters and their accomplices.

At the time, all three of them jumped at the chance to do anything to keep busy, eager to do anything to avoid dealing with the fact that they had lost so many. They had just wanted to forget about all of the deaths. It was something that affected all of them, something that they would never be able to get over – that they knew they'd never be able to get over. She used to believe that she and Ron would be together forever, and that having each other would help them get over whatever it was that stayed with them after the war. Looking back now, however, Hermione understood that everything they had gone through together, all of the horrors that they had shared had, well, all but made a "happily ever after" impossible. Then, after they had broken up, she had been absolutely positive that she would never ever love again, but somehow, fate had swooped in and proved that it had something else in store for her, a twist to her life that she would have never imagined. She had found a love greater that she had ever dreamed of, greater than anything in the entire world.

Hermione realised that many people went through their whole lives never knowing love, and she knew that she was incredibly fortunate, because she had loved and been loved twice by two extraordinary men. The ache in her in her heart was still there, but after two years she was coming to terms with the fact that, for some reason, she was meant to live her life alone. There were still nights when she would cry into her pillow, bitter tears of a painful heartbreak. She had never known how much she wanted a family of her own until now, but even though she would never be a wife or a mother, she accepted the path her life had taken. Although she loved working in the library, especially when it entailed working with children, her heart would drop to her feet whenever a towheaded boy or girl walked in, always thinking 'what if…' Relaxing in the sun, Hermione absently took a sip of her tea which reminded her forcibly of England.

**3 years ago - England**

From the second she jumped out of bed that morning, she had gone non-stop. She had rummaged around in her wardrobe for something – anything – to wear. She had pulled out some trousers, but tripped a little on the tapering of the leg, and found a lovely shirt to wear over that tan coloured top her mother had sent over last week. She had quickly tied her hair back, and then looked at her reflection in the mirror, trying to decide if she should bother with make-up or not. Deciding it really wasn't worth the hassle, and besides, she was going to be late as it was, she picked up her most comfortable pair of shoes by her bedroom door, shoved them on, and then sprinted for the door, grabbing her cloak, wand and an apple for breakfast on her way out.

It was five past eight that morning when Hermione rushed into Kinsley Shacklebolt's office at the ministry, to see that Ron and Harry were already there. As she silently mouthed "good morning" to them, Harry looked up and smiled, but Ron, however, merely ran his hand through his gorgeous ginger coloured hair, not quite looking at her at all. The morning debriefing with Shacklebolt about the raid on the Crankston Estate and the dark magic items that had been seized the previous night had been like any other meeting, aside for when it came time for Hermione to speak. She was dreading her turn because she knew she had to recount the fact that she had narrowly avoided being killed. At first glance, the dainty, jewel encrusted dagger appeared harmless enough, but as soon as she had picked it up off the desk, her hand had turned on its own accord and had it not been for Ron's casting the Petrificus Totalus on her, she would have plunged the blade into her own heart. The only indication that that Hermione had that Ron was even listening to her account of the incident was the clenching and unclenching of his jaw. Ron, Harry and Hermione gave their account of the events and were dismissed. After the meeting Harry and Ron waited for Hermione in the corridor.

"Hey, Hermione," grinned Harry. "It's good to see that you've decided to join us today."

"I know, Harry," Hermione said embarrassedly. "I'm really sorry, I just couldn't sleep last night, and then I didn't wake up this morning, it was awful." She turned to Ron and lowered her voice. "Iwaited up for you last night?"

Ron pulled on his tie uncomfortably and looked at Harry. Harry quickly swivelled his head around in the opposite direction, and then turned back to them, looking awkward. He looked as though he was trying desperately to come up with an excuse.

"Er, it's okay, don't worry about it. Er, look, I'm going to go to the holding room to get er, get ready for Mrs. Anglis. I'll see you there – Kingsley said you'd be sitting in for the questioning."

"Yeah," Hermione said distractedly, looking at Ron in confusion. "Yeah, okay, I'll be there in a second."

Hermione waited for Harry to walk away, before checking that the corridor was completely empty, and then walking back over to face her boyfriend. "Ron, you were gone when I woke up this morning. Why didn't you wake me last night or this morning before you left?" she asked softly, reaching for the front of his robes to pull him closer. She loved the smell of his cologne and wanted nothing more than a kiss from him. Unfortunately, Ron seemed too preoccupied to notice.

Ron looked at her for the first time that morning, his eyes full of indecision and sadness, "I know, Hermione," he said so quietly, she could barely hear him. "You looked so peaceful that I didn't have the heart to wake you last night and I left early this morning for a meeting with Percy. I should have woken you but I had a lot of things on my mind. Things that I've been trying to sort for a long time."

"Ron, what is it?" she asked. "What's going on?"

Again, he was unable to meet her eyes. "Look," he said as he took a few steps backwards, looking more than a little panicked, "I have another meeting with Percy in a few minutes, and we both know how he can be if I'm late. Look, there's…I erm… I just need to talk to you, why don't I meet you at the pub at six thirty tonight and we can talk then?" And with a ghost of a smile that said, 'please drop it until later', he turned and walked away.

The interrogation of Gloria Anglis regarding the mysterious disappearance of her husband Reginald exhausted Hermione and frustrated Harry. Reginald had previously been employed by the ministry in the Department of Muggle Protection, but the ministry had now begun to suspect Reginald of handing muggles over to the Death Eaters during the war. Mrs. Anglis refused to say anything his whereabouts, only telling them that he had been under the imperius curse and was now hiding from the ministry and any remaining Death Eaters.

The rest of Hermione's day was crammed with following dead leads on the whereabouts of Anglis and a lot of paperwork. Several times she caught herself staring at nothing, trying to work out for herself what it was that was bothering Ron. She knew that things were a little tense with them lately, but she couldn't put her finger on what was causing it.

They had fancied each other since their fourth year at Hogwarts and if he had not been so utterly inept at demonstrating his feelings, they would have been together since then. Unfortunately Ron didn't have a clue. They didn't admit to anything until the very night Voldemort was defeated at Hogwarts. The memory of that night was still vivid in Hermione's mind.

The chilling fear that had gripped her from the moment Harry, Ron and her began their quest for the horcruxes had intensified to an almost crippling point. The Dark Lord and his minions were attacking the school. Everything was a blur from then on, the trip to the Chamber of Secrets to retrieve the basilisk fangs, students being evacuated, teachers and members of the Order of the Phoenix preparing to take a stand. There was chaos all around, and suddenly there was a moment when the fear of dying without ever acting on the love she felt was all that mattered to Hermione. When Ron had begun to fret about the house-elves, it was if time had stopped. All she could think about was Ron, all that existed was Ron. Not even Voldemort himself could have stopped her from rushing to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him, a kiss they had been building up to for three bloody years. Though Ron was surprised, he only hesitated for a split-second, before pulling her to him as tightly as he could, tilting his head and kissing her with an incredible intensity, that threatened to consume them both. She became so lost within him that she had no idea how long it lasted, but she did know that there, in his arms, she felt absolute happiness, contentment and joy.

Now, sitting at her desk she thought about the changes the past two years had wrought on them. They had gone from being teenagers to adults in hurry. She remembered their first big argument a week after 'the kiss'.

They'd been at Ron's parent's home in the burrow having just come home from Fred's funeral. Ron, Harry, Ginny, Bill, Fleur, and Hermione were all at the table quietly talking about all the good times they'd had with Fred. George was sitting at the table, but his mind was somewhere else. The look in his eyes could be compared to that of a lost puppy. Everyone at the table silently worried about his ability to return to his old self with out his best friend by his side. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sitting out on the porch swing, Mr. Weasley's arm around his wife as she rested her tired head on his shoulder, whispering words of comfort only the two of them could hear. Ron looked up at Hermione and asked if she wanted to take a walk in the garden with him.

Dusk was just beginning to fall when Hermione took his hand and walked out the back door. As soon as they'd reached the garden Ron pulled her behind the gnarled old tree. With an urgency that was born out of years of wanting, he placed his hands on her hips and drew her against his body. With his back against the abrasive bark of the tree, he moved a hand up her back to the base of her neck, leaned down and took her mouth into his. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck letting her body meld with his. He suckled her bottom lip, pulling her closer, wanting to eliminate any space between them. He trailed kissed down her neck, savoring the taste of her skin. Her hands moved to his lower back, pulling his shirt out his trousers so she could feel his skin as she rained kisses to his face, his ears and his neck. He shivered and pulling her hair, returned to her mouth. His tongue, granted entry, was met by her own, matching his in a lover's duel. His hands worked their way under her blouse gently massaging her back. It was electric shock that went through Hermione as he pressed his hands to the skin on her lower back that made her pull back. She leaned bowed her head and leaned it on his chest, he rested his chin on the top of her head, too out of breath to speak, their raspy breathing the only sound they made.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. She didn't say anything, just held him tighter. Pulling back, he bent his head to look into her eyes, "Honestly Hermione, I didn't talk you into coming out here just to sneak in a snogging session."

Hermione's lips curved into a small smile, "Ron, stop, in case you didn't notice, I wasn't exactly fighting you off." With a sheepish grin, he leaned for one last kiss before getting down to the business of telling her why he'd actually wanted to speak to her in private.

Ron placed his hands on her shoulders and with a determined look on his face he began to explain. "Alright then, I've had a talk with my mum, and she said you can stay in Fred and George's old room for now. You know she loves you like a daughter anyway, and you can keep her company while Ginny is away at Hogwarts. We can still see each other when I come home on weekends".

"Ron, what are you talking about?" Hermione asked with a perplexed look on her face. "I can find a place in Diagon Alley, and we'll see each other every day at work."

Ron looked at her fiercely. "No, you aren't working at the ministry Hermione. There is no way I'll allow it."

He really should have been paying more attention to look on Hermione's face. If he had, he'd have noticed the furrowing of her brows and the setting of her jaw.

Hermione pulled away from him. "Sorry?" she asked coolly. "What did you say?"

"There's no need for you to get angry, Hermione," Ron said in a steady voice. "You're just going to have to understand that after all the crap we've been through to get to where we are today, I am not taking any chances on anything happening to you."

Hermione could barely control the shaking in her voice, "No, Ron, you're the one that's going to have to understand, yeah? I'm taking the job at the ministry, and that's really the end of it. Did you honestly believe I would sit here twiddling my thumbs while you were putting your life on the line? Did you honestly believe I would be happy with that?"

The colour on Ron's face suddenly matched his hair. He clenched his jaw, losing the battle with himself to keep his cool. "Damn it Hermione! Why? Why can't you trust me for once? I. Don't. Want. You. Around. Danger. Anymore! Don't you see? The people we're going to go after are absolutely mental! They're bound to be desperate, and desperate Death Eaters are the worst king of Death Eaters, and I don't want you near them!"

Hermione swallowed her retort. If he'd been having this argument with anyone else they would have missed it, but after loving him for so long, she saw it. There in his beautiful eyes was utter fear. She couldn't stop the tears that had gathered in her eyes from falling, and so, taking his face in both her hands she forced him to look at her as she softly said, "I do trust you Ron. Please believe me when I say that there is no one I trust more than you. I know you're scared, I'm scared too, but I can't stay here and do nothing. You know I'm capable of being a good Auror. And I know that as long as you're by my side, no harm can come to me."

As he continued to stare at her, she saw conflicting emotions flashing across his face. After what seemed like an eternity, he exhaled slowly, pulling her close, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. As she wrapped her arms around him, she could feel the tension in his body and knew although she had won this battle; the war was far from over.

Now, two years later, Hermione had an uneasy feeling that things were going to blow up again. She knew that they had to get to the bottom of this. Though she was dreading the meeting later that evening, she knew that things just couldn't continue like they were.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – Fierce Beating of His Heart**

**Disclaimer****- ****Okay, again, I don't own Harry Potter, the characters, or anything dealing with it, it all belongs to the amazing **J.K. Rowling**. Only the plot is mine.**

**Author's Note****-**** I want to thank everyone that has taken time to read this story. And to those of you who have taken the time to leave me a review, I humbly thank you, you're all my Heroes. Muchos Besos to my Beta Coff, I love you girl.**

She told her self countless times not to read anything into it, but she just couldn't help herself.

Then, just when she was finally about to leave her office to go and meet with Ron, she'd had an unexpected, and, well, rather unwelcome - if only because she just wanted to see Ron – visit from Belinda Pennington, Kingsley's secretary. To her surprise, Belinda handed her a box full of the items that Hermione had confiscated on a raid just the previous night.

"Sorry, Hermione," Belinda said apologetically. "It's just that Mr. Shacklebolt asked me to bring these by, and told me to ask you to classify them into their correct categories. It's just so that I can know what type of security we'll need on them."

"Well," Hermione said reluctantly, "I was just on my way out. Can I do it tomorrow morning? It's just that Ron's waiting for me, and it's rather important."

"I'm sorry, but it just can't. It needs to be done tonight. We think that some of these items were used recently, and so we need to get them secured as quickly as we can. Especially after that close call you had last night."

It was another hour before Hermione could leave the ministry and Apparate to the Testy Witch, a little pub Ron and she had been going to for the last two years. Although it was quite crowded, it wasn't difficult to find Ron. He was sitting at their usual table. She didn't approach him right away; she just stood there and gazed at him. The feelings of apprehension she'd tried to keep at bay all day came rushing back at the sight of Ron with a half-empty bottle of firewhiskey on the table and a glass of the potent liquid in his hands. As he sat there, his broad shoulders hunched over his drink, the look on his hardened face frightened her. There was no sign of the awkward, loving, laughing, boy she'd fallen in love with. This Ron was showed no softness, he was surly and sullen, but she loved him intensely, and the fear of losing him terrified her.

Taking a deep fortifying breath, she walked to the table and stood there waiting for him to acknowledge her. When he looked up at her, she could tell that he'd already had a few drinks. His eyes were bloodshot and his lids looked heavy. As she stood there ready to explain her tardiness, her first thought was that Ron really needed a haircut, his thick hair was already gently curling at his nape. The unexpected thought almost made her giggle, but one glance at the look on his face stopped her in her tracks.

She offered him a small, nervous smile and sat across from him. "I'm so sorry," she said apologetically. "Belinda came in, just as I was leaving, and asked me to record some items for Kingsley. I came here as soon as I could."

"It's fine, Hermione," he snapped. "I've only been waiting, oh, an hour for you."

She was taken aback by the harshness of his tone, "What's your problem? I said I was sorry, Ron, I was working. Did you want me to skive off work? Did you want me to tell Kingsley to do his work himself?"

"My problem?" Ron hissed. "My problem is that I'm pissed off, Hermione. I'm tired of coming second in your life. I'm tired of never having my opinions listened to, AND I'M TIRED OF PRETENDING IT WILL ALL WORK OUT FINE!"

By this time, there were several people nervously glancing their way.

He lowered his voice and leaned closer to her, "And yes, I did expect you to figure out a way to get here on time. You knew. You knew that I had to see you. I told you I had to talk to you. But you didn't make an effort to get here. I would have. I would've moved heaven and earth to be there if you needed me."

"What are you talking about? You're my first priority, Ron, but since when does that mean that I have to drop everything I'm doing at the drop of a hat? You know how important it is for us, all of us, who fight against the dark side, to dot our i's and cross our t's. We're talking about the security and protection of both wizards and muggles."

Ron's face had rapidly changed from slightly pink to crimson, his eyes were cold and hard, but his voice was calm. "By all means, Hermione, dot your i's and cross your blasted t's! So what if it means putting your life in constant peril? It's no big deal right? Well, maybe it's not a big deal for you, but I can't take this crap anymore."

It was the calmness that worried her. Reaching out to cover his hands with hers, she looked she looked pleadingly at him. "Ron, please, can we go home to discuss this? People are staring, and I really don't want to have an audience."

For a moment it seemed as if he would pull his hands away, so she held them tighter. Cobalt and caramel eyes met and held. Neither one could look away. One pair was angry and frustrated; the other hurt and confused. Each silently pleading their case. Without warning, he Apparated them both out of the pub, taking them to the flat they shared in Diagon Alley.

_It was quaint little place they'd moved into right before they started work at the ministry, not too far from George's shop. _The one bedroom flat had been perfect, and Hermione had fallen in love with at first sight.

_It was there that she had given herself completely to him.  
_

_  
They had stood in the middle of the bedroom the first night, both a little shy, not quiet sure what to do. Then, Ron had gently pulled her to him. Wrapping his arm clumsily around her tiny waist he'd leaned over and began to kiss her softly on her lips. She had shakily placed her arms around his shoulders, pressed her body into his, and thrown her head back, letting her tousled mane brush against the arms around her waist._

That small gesture of surrender was all he'd needed. With a groan, his lips began to move frantically, licking and kissing her neck, his tongue moving slightly erratically from her cheeks to her collar and back to her lips. Clumsily, she'd felt him reach for the buttons on her blouse, but he hesitated, before stepping back and staring into her eyes, undoing each button slowly. He had slipped the blouse off her shoulders, staring at her in wonder, and she had shakily removed her jeans.

She had never believed she was beautiful until that moment… as she stood there in her pink lacy panties and bra, the look on his face had been one of unadulterated reverence. He had ripped his shirt over his head and quickly stepped out of his pants and boxers. Moving closer to her and reaching behind her back, He had unhooked her bra and let it slide to the floor; the panties soon joined it.

_Through a misty haze, she had felt herself being carried to the bed. After gently settling himself between her legs he began to slowly move his hand up her inner leg while he focused his mouth on her breasts, first one then the other. He had trailed kisses from her throat, to her breast, her flat stomach and back to her breasts. His hand had continued its journey up her leg until it reached her center. Hermione arched her back as he continued to explore. Panting for breath he had pulled back resting his body on his elbows to keep his weight off her, only to have her grab the hair at his nape, raise her head off the pillow, and hiss against his lips, "now, Ronald!" __Lying in his arms that night, she'd felt cherished. After falling asleep with her back to him, his arms cradling her, she'd been startled in the middle of the night by his screams. It was obvious that he was caught in the throes of a nightmare; his thrashing body was soaked with perspiration as well as the sheets. His words were incoherent, but there were tears streaming down his face. She'd held him as she would a frightened child, murmuring sweet words of love until his thrashing calmed down and he returned to a fitful slumber._

Ron released her hands as soon as they arrived. He walked to the kitchen without saying a word, opened the cupboard, pulled out the bottle of firewhiskey they kept there for special occasions. He poured a glass and tossed it back in one go. He stood there with his back to her, slightly bending, his arms out to his sides, holding on to the counter, his head hanging down. He knew that it was the last time he would be in their flat, there had to be a clean break, he just didn't know where he was going to get the strength he needed to do this.

He seemed so unapproachable that she was at a loss for what to say or do. She warily walked over to him and stood next to him with her back against the counter. She leaned over so she could face him. "Ron, please, look at me. I want to make things right, but I have no inkling as to what you need from me."

Turning around, he kept his eyes on the ground. He seemed as though he was battling with himself, as though he was trying to decide what to say.

"I can't bear the thought of you dying," he blurted. "I know you don't know what I need from you, but I don't even know what I need myself. I just know that the very idea of you dying makes me sick."

"Ron, I promise, nothing is going to happen…"

He roughly grabbed her by the shoulders. "Shut up, Hermione," he shouted. 'Don't patronise me! Don't make stupid promises we both know you can't keep!"

He was beginning to frighten her, his face barely an inch away, his eyes blazing.

'I'm not the prat you knew in school. I've seen all of the shit out there. Don't you remember? I've been out there with you, in the thick of it, every fucking day!"

"Stop, Ron," she cried. 'You're hurting me!"

He released her as if she had burned him. Looking down, he could see the marks left by his fingers; red, angry welts on her arms. He'd never touched her in anger. She staggered back a few steps and looked at him with a mixture of anger, fear, and hurt. The tears forming in her eyes sent a stabbing pain to Ron's heart. He hadn't meant for it to turn out this way. There was a pressure building in his chest, threatening to suffocate him, with each breath he took. 'You can do this Ron', he thought to himself. 'Do it now mate, or you'll lose what's left of your mind.'

With heart filled with remorse, he gently took her hand in his and led her to the table. She sat on one chair and he dragged another chair so they could face each other. There was a look of absolute pain upon his face. Hermione wondered if it had just occurred, or if it had been there all along, and she had just not taken the time to notice. As they sat with Hermione's knees between Ron's, she let her hands gently rub his legs and her silent tears fall without restraint.

"I'm sorry," Ron whispered. "Please believe me. I need you to listen to me, please, just listen to me for once. You know I'd never hurt you, but I want to do this right."

"Ron… do what?" she asked

""I need you to just listen, would you do that?" he asked her. She opened her mouth to reply, but quickly closed it, as she contemplated his unwavering gaze. Fastening her eyes on him, she agreed with an almost imperceptible nod.

Ron was at a loss as to how to begin. His heart was hammering against his chest with the force of a jackhammer. With nothing else to be done, he gathered her hands in his, looked into her beautiful eyes, and began…

"I've gone over this in my mind a million times, and I still don't know where to begin. The thing is, to everyone out there I am Ronald B. Weasley, one third of, well, _us_. A hero…what a bloody pile of rubbish" he said with a self-depreciating laugh. "The rub of it is that I'm always afraid Hermione. I'm afraid to sleep. I have been, for two years. I close my eyes at night and I see death." His eyes became unfocused as he spoke, almost as if he was somewhere else. "I can't remember the last time I slept in peace. There are the dreams of Tonks and Lupin, lying on the floor at Hogwarts, their vacant eyes condemning me, or the body of Colin; he was just a little boy. He had no business there. In my dream I want to shake him and scream, 'What the fuck were you thinking!' But just as I'm about to, I turn and I see Fred. He's standing there with a funny look on his face, like he knows a secret I don't. I know he's trying to tell me something, but before I can ask him, there's an explosion and his face is gone." His voice was barely a whisper now, a ravaged look on his face, tears streaming down his face

Hermione's arms ached with the need to hold him, but she held herself back and let him continue. "I sometimes see Harry at the bottom of the frozen pond, the sword of Gryffindor clutched in his arms, his head severed by the blasted locket… but the worst one is of you. I see you being tortured by those fucking gits back in Malfoy Manner. I try to remember that it's just a dream, but I can't." He abruptly lifted his eyes to her, "I can hear your screams echoing in my head, sometimes they stay with me even after I've woken, and each one feels like a dagger to my chest. Hermione, I see that bastard Fenrir feasting on your dead body!" He was sobbing uncontrollably, his voice cracking with every word.

She reached over and placed her hands on his cheeks, tears spilling down her own face, "Ron, it's okay. I know I can't begin to understand what you've been going through, but I know that nothing is impossible to get through. Together we can get past this, we just need to…"

"No, Hermione," he interrupted, seizing her hands in his and pulling her to her feet. 'We can't do this together. This is something I have to do _alone._"

There was a pause while he visibly tried to collect himself. "I'm… I'm leaving," he managed to say. "That's what I've been trying to tell you. It's, well, almost impossible for me to… tell the difference between dreams and reality, anymore. Every blasted time we go on a raid, every time you're in a dangerous situation, I lose a little bit more of my sanity. To a certain extent, I've known since that first argument after the battle that I could never get used to you being in danger. I've thought about this for a long time and I have to go. For my peace of mind I need to get away from this crap."

For several moments neither one said a word; the only sound was Ron's ragged breathing. Eyes locked, the tension in the room was palpable.

"I'm sorry Ron," she began in a deceptively calm voice, disengaging her hands from his. Her heart hammering in her chest, she grabbed the front of his shirt, "maybe it seems like walking away is the solution, but you and I both know that it won't solve anything. I'll quit. I'll stop working right now. Please, just listen," she pleaded frantically, pulling on his shirtfront, as he started to shake his head. "Ron, don't do this… I love you," she cried in a small voice, pulling him close and burying her face in his neck. She loved his scent, and wanted nothing more than to stay there, nestled against him, forever.

Reaching up to where her hands were gripping his shirt, Ron gently pulled her hands off and stepped away from her, immediately missing the fragrance that was hers alone. He couldn't believe how indescribably hard this was, but he also knew that he would never get better here. He wasn't good for her and she wasn't good for him. The history they shared, not just him and Hermione, but Harry as well, was filled with such horrendous memories that they made it impossible for him to move on.

"We both know you would be miserable without your job, Hermione. It's what you've always wanted."

"Okay," Hermione admitted. "Okay, you're right. But, look, it'll be okay. Things are bound to get easier, Ron. Every day we bring another Death Eater down. We're winning this thing! We can't let them beat us."

"Don't be stupid Hermione! What the bloody hell are you talking about? I was there last night remember? My fucking heart fell to my feet when I saw that damn dagger heading for your chest! I can't take it anymore!" He picked up the chair and threw it against the wall.

""Do you think this is easy for me?" he demanded. "Do you honestly believe I enjoy being an ungrateful git? I hate it, but I'll be damned if I'll stick around and make your life a living hell. I'm leaving for both our sakes, I love you, Hermione, but this is no good. Look, you know it's no good. Maybe you've never admitted it, but you know things have been bad for a long time now. I know you'll see that for yourself one day." His eyes implored her to understand.

Hermione remained rooted to the spot as he turned and walked into the bedroom. A million thoughts were running through her head, the most prominent of which were telling her to make him stay, and asking her how things had got this way. How _had_ things got this way? She just couldn't believe that he was actually leaving.

Ron walked out holding a duffle bag, his coat draped over his shoulder. "I'll send Ginny over to get the rest of my things later," he said, trying to sound normal, "I'm not quite sure where I'll be staying, but she can get the stuff to me when I get settled."

Hermione silently walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head against his broad chest, she quietly wept as she listened to the fierce beating of his heart. Taking a shuddering breath, he kissed the top of her head, stepped back, and with a searing look, disappeared.


	3. Chapter 4

Chapter Three

**Chapter Three – Fainting Spells and Stupid Stunts**

**Disclaimer****- Okay, again, I don't own Harry Potter, the characters, or anything dealing with it, it all belongs to the amazing **J.K. Rowling**. Only the plot is mine.**

**Author's Note****- I want to thank everyone that has taken time to read this story. And to those of you who have taken the time to leave me a review, I humbly thank you, you're all my Heroes. Muchos Besos to my Beta Coff, I love you girl.**

The sunlight streamed in through the window, across the room and rested on her troubled face. She was sitting on the living room floor, her back against the wall, in the exact spot she had been all night. Her eyes were swollen but dry, her hair wild and frizzy, her nails bitten down to the quick. It had been an agonizing night spent alternating between anger and despair. Hermione felt absolutely shell-shocked. She sat there with her knees pulled up to her chin, her arms crossed, gently rubbing the spot where Ron had grabbed her in anger the night before. No matter how many times she replayed the events of the previous night, she couldn't get her head around the fact that Ron was gone

She had no feeling of anything working out between them, no feeling of them getting back together as soon as he calmed down. She knew with absolute certainty that Ron had walked out of her life for good and that knowledge was enough to disable her. She knew that it had to be close to midday, and so she knew that everyone would probably be at work. How was she supposed to get up and report to her job knowing that she would have to see him but would not be allowed to be a part of his life anymore? She dropped her face onto her knees with a sob.

She was pulled from her disturbed by a soft pop, looking up she saw Harry and Ginny standing in front of her. They were both wearing their work robes. Her eyes met Harry's concerned look and the sob turned into heart-wrenching weeping. Ginny quickly dropped to her knees in front of her and wrapped her in a tight embrace.

"Oh dear. Have you been sitting here all night?" Ginny asked. "All alone?" Hermione merely held her tightly and nodded her head.

Harry, meanwhile, surveyed the flat, taking in the bottle of firewhiskey and the overturned chair in the kitchen. Returning to the living room, his uneasy gaze settled on Hermione, "Hermione," Harry said, "Are you okay? He didn't, well, hurt you did he? I mean, physically. I swear to Merlin, if he laid a hand on you…" He froze; his emerald eyes pinned on the bruises on her upper arms. Hermione glanced at him, and then back at her arms, and seeing the murderous look on his face, she quickly stood up and rushed over to him.

"Calm down, Harry, it's not what you think," she said. "We were caught in the heat of the discussion," she continued as she saw that he was about to argue. "He grabbed me without even realizing what he was doing. It was as if we were in the midst of a great drama we had no control over. Please Harry, let it go. Believe me, he felt like crap when he realized what he'd done."

"Damn it, Hermione," Harry argued. "How can you make excuses for him? Look at your arms. And if you think he felt bad last night, that's nothing to how he's going to feel when I'm done with him. I need to go find…" He turned to leave.

"No, Harry, I need you here." Hermione's begging stopped Harry in his tracks. "Please, please… I don't want to be alone. I'll go mad."

Harry felt as if his heart was going to explode with pain. He'd never seen Hermione look so beaten.

"She's right," Ginny told Harry. "This is this is more important than beating the crap out of Ron, the foul git."

Hermione spun around and glared first at Ginny, and then at Harry. "Stop! Don't talk about him like that. The 'foul git' you're talking about is the man I love. And I know that both of you realize that he would never intentionally hurt me."

Ginny and Harry shared a look that had any number of thoughts in it, had Hermione been prepared to read into it. "Okay," Ginny said reluctantly. "Okay. Did you want to tell us what happened?"

"Have a bath," Harry told her. "It'll make you feel better. We'll stay here today. I'll just go and send a letter to Kingsley, to tell him we won't be in today."

"Yeah," Ginny said, giving her a small smile. "You do that, and I'll make us some breakfast."

Hermione immediately felt ashamed for snapping at them. She walked over and wrapped her arms around them both. They all stood in a huddle, their heads together, each shedding tears. Hermione could tell that they needed the hug just as much as she did, and she felt silly, realizing that through Ron's leaving, they were also losing a best friend, and a brother. It wasn't, of course, just about her.

It seemed as if none of them wanted to pull away, but Harry finally did. "Okay, look, have your bath. I need to send an owl, and I'd love some breakfast after that."

Hermione could tell he was trying to sound cheerful. She smiled weakly at him, and began to walk off. He grabbed her wrist as she walked past him, whispering in her ear, "we'll talk about this over breakfast, yeah?"

Hermione just didn't feel like a bath, and so she decided to have a shower. Her flat was one of the newer ones, complete with shower, and she had been rather lucky to secure it, especially for the amount of money she paid for it.

Half an hour later, Hermione stepped into the kitchen wearing a pair of sweat pants and one of Ron's old t-shirts, a towel wrapped around her head. She'd obviously walked into a conversation about herself because both of them stopped talking as soon as they saw her. She gave Harry and Ginny a small smile as she poured herself a cup of tea and joined them at the table. She sat with both her feet on the chair, helping herself to some toast. She was unwilling to meet Harry or Ginny's questioning look.

Ginny broke the uncomfortable silence, "Erm, Hermione… did you want to tell us what happened last night? Neither one of us actually know."

"Well," Hermione said, her eyes averted. "I'm not really sure where to begin. Ron and I have been, well, we've been a little tense lately. I just thought it was a phase we were going through, you know? And things at work had been just so… hectic… that I didn't really even notice that Ron was miserable."

Harry and Ginny shared a bewildered look. "Hermione, why would Ron be miserable? He adores you. Being with you is all he's ever wanted."

"I know," Hermione said quietly. "That's why he's so miserable." She glared at Harry, and the look he was fixing her with. "Don't look at me as if I'm mental, Harry. I've gone over it all night long, and even though I don't see why he thinks he has to face his fears alone, I can see how he might feel, well, _suffocated_ by his fear if he stays with me."

"I want to know what he said last night. He may the world's biggest wanker, but he's my brother and I need to know if there's anything we can do for him," demanded Ginny.

Hermione swallowed, and then nodded. "When we met at the pub last night, I thought he was put off because I was running late again, but after coming back here, he basically said that he couldn't live with me because of the constant fear of losing me. He explained that he's been having nightmares for two years and they are getting worse. He's been finding it difficult to distinguish between dreams and reality."

"I tried to stop him, Gin, I did. I begged, I cried… but in the end, he chose to walk away. I refuse to believe that he won't be back. After all we've been through, this can't be over, can it?"

She began to cry again.

Harry and Ginny seemed to be at a loss as to what to say. She glanced up and caught a look pass between Ginny and Harry. "Did he say anything to you Harry, have you spoken to him?" Her voice trembled with hope. "Do you know where he's staying?"

Harry and Ginny shot the funny look at each other again, completely unwilling to look at her. Hermione knew, in that moment, that something was terribly wrong and fear clutched at her heart.

"Don't you dare come in here asking for answers to your questions and then do your damnest to avoid answering me mine!" she yelled.

"What do you know? Where is he Harry? ANSWER ME DAMN IT." She slammed her fist down onto the table.

Ginny and Harry shared another look, and Harry nodded reluctantly. Ginny sighed. "Alright," she said finally, positioning her chair in front of Hermione's, exactly the same way that Ron had done, the night before. "Last night, he, well, he stayed at George's place. He refused to tell George what had happened; he just said he needed a place to crash for the night. By the time George woke up this morning, he was gone. George sent an owl to Harry and me telling us to meet him at the Burrow. When George got to the burrow to tell mum and dad, he found Ron was already there. By the time Harry and I got there mum was screaming like a banshee. We didn't know what was happening, but Harry had to help dad separate George and Ron. They were rolling on the ground pounding on each other. There was a lot of shouting. When Harry and dad finally separated them George called Ron a coward and Ron just stood there with his head hanging down. He looked up at all of us and disapparated."

Somehow, Hermione could tell that there was more to the story. Trembling, she turned to face Harry. She reminded him of a frightened little girl, and so, for a moment, he considered not telling her. Finally, he decided to, knowing that she would more than likely find out anyway. As difficult as this was, at least he was the one telling her. They had always had each other to get through the hard times, they would deal with this now, but for a split second he wished he was facing Voldemort again, rather than having to tell Hermione what he had to say.

Harry walked over to her and squatted next to her, placing his hands in hers. "Look, Hermione, Ron's gone to Australia for a while. He's going to go live among muggles… he's giving up magic. Well, at least for now, anyway."

After gaping at both her best friends, she slid off the chair in a dead faint.

**TWICE LOVED**

"Confringo!" she shouted, running and pointing her wand at the huge rock blocking her exit. The result was immediate. It exploded into a million pieces, the force sending fragments directly at her, slicing at her face and arms. Hermione didn't notice; she just kept running through the tunnel. She had to get to the out of here before he got away. She was almost there; she could hear the water lapping on the shore. If only she hadn't lost precious time arguing with Dean, Reginald would already be in custody.

"Expelliarmus!" The spell caught her unprepared, sending her wand flying out of her hand. She couldn't even see who had cast it. Before she could try to retrieve it she heard 'Stupefy', and a red flash soared from behind her, hitting Reginald Angis as he stood hidden by the exit of the tunnel. He crumpled in a heap, completely unconscious.

"Are…you…alright?" asked a winded Dean Thomas. She hung her head and nodded.

"I'm fine Dean, I think you just saved my…"

"Great…now…shut…up…Hermione! I don't want to hear it. We'll talk about this stupid stunt when we get back to the ministry," yelled her still winded but very angry partner. Then, limping over to Reginald's inert body Dean used a nonverbal spell to bind the fugitive. He Apparated them to ministry with one hand roughly grabbing Hermione's arm and the other latching on to Reginald's hand

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING, GRANGER?" bellowed Kingsley. "When I assigned Dean as your partner, you promised me you were going to stop going out of your way to break the rules. You assured me that things were going to be different!"

Hermione was sitting in the debriefing room surrounded by Kingsley, Harry and Dean. Harry had been promoted and was now her immediate supervisor. She kept her hands clasped, resting on her laps, her eyes seemingly focused on the blank wall in front of her.

"I believed it would be safer if only one of us went into that tunnel Kingsley. It was dark and I felt it would be imprudent to risk both our lives. Because it was so narrow, I figured it should be me," answered Hermione without showing an ounce of remorse.

"So you decided to use the Locomotor Mortis on me?" Dean asked incredulously, pacing pack and forth in front of Hermione, keeping his hands in his robe pockets in an obvious attempt to keep himself from strangling her

"What if I hadn't been able to get to my wand to reverse the curse, Hermione? Who would have saved your arse? No one, that's who! And what if he'd decided to come after me? What then Hermione? This has to be the stupidest of all the stunts you've pulled since Ron left!"

Hermione flew at him, grabbing him by the front of his robes, her face a breath away from his. "Don't you dare bring him into this, Dean!" she shrieked.

"Why not?" asked Dean, hitting her hands off his robes and walking away. He stopped at the door and turned back, saying, "That's what's behind this. I don't know what happened between you two, but this little 'Heroine' act is getting old. We all want to bring all these bastards down, but we have to be able to use our heads. Partners are supposed to have each other's backs, and they're supposed to trust each other. You don't have anyone's back anymore, and I can't trust you." Before walking out he levelled a glare at Kingsley. "I have my family to think of. Luna and the baby need me. Find me another partner.

For several seconds, no one said anything. Kingsley finally broke the awkward silence, looking pointedly at Harry, who up until now had not spoken. "you need to talk some sense into your mate." After giving Hermione one last look, he turned and walked out, his robes billowing behind him

"Hermione," Harry said, "look, you know I respect you, and you're my best mate, but honestly, you were way out of line tonight. You'd better start talking to me. I'm not going to tiptoe around you anymore."

"I don't know what you want me to say, Harry," Hermione said stubbornly. "I did what I thought needed to be done at the time. And what the hell do you mean you've been tiptoeing around me?"

"I mean," Harry retorted, "that ever since he left, I've let you do things I normally wouldn't let anyone else do." He glared at her. "Don't look at me like that; you _know_ it's the truth. You're always trying to put yourself in danger. I don't know what you're trying to prove, but tonight…tonight you put Dean's life in peril and I can't overlook that."

He waited for her to reply but she merely glowered at him. "Go to the infirmary to have those cuts looked into. Then go home. Take the day off tomorrow."

"No," Hermione said. "That can wait. I want to sit in whilst you talk to Reginald. I deserve to be there. That git has had me running all over the country looking for him." She began to bang her head on the table. "I've been working on this case for over a year."

"No," Harry said impatiently. "It wasn't a suggestion. Go to the infirmary. Now. And then go home. Dean and I will question Angis. I don't want to see you here until the day after tomorrow."

She shot him a withering look. "Whatever you say, Mr. Potter," she snapped. She turned and walked out slamming the door behind her.

She arrived home more than two hours later. Her stay in the infirmary had been longer than she'd anticipated. It seemed as if the healer had taken forever to get her abrasions taken care. By the time she had finished, Hermione wanted nothing more than to get home and take a long hot bath. Unfortunately she had met up with Ginny in the corridor outside the infirmary.

"Hi, Hermione," Ginny had said. "Do you have a minute?"

"Are you sure you want to hang out with me, Ginny?" Hermione had answered sarcastically. "I mean, Harry believes I'm such a reckless twit that I just can't be trusted anymore."

_"Stop it, Hermione," Ginny had said impatiently. "You know that Harry doesn't believe that. We're all so worried! You just haven't been thinking straight lately."_

"I know what I'm doing," Hermione had hissed. "Look, I know I've been a little reckless tonight, but that doesn't give Harry the right to send me home like a child!_ I've worked my arse off on the Angis case, I was working on it six months before Dean even became my partner, and now he gets to wrap it all up!"_

"A bit reckless?" Ginny asked incredulously. "Hermione, you hexed your partner. You put your life, _and his life_ in danger, and now you're getting upset about it because they told you off about it!_ You and I both know that your anger has nothing to do with the case, you're royally pissed because my brother left, you've been pissed for a year and we've all had to take the brunt of your anger. He's gone Hermione, he's not coming back and there's nothing either one of us can do. It's been a year. Let it go. Start living your life again. I'm sure he is." Ginny said, holding nothing back._

Back in her new flat, Hermione thought about what Ginny had said. '_He's gone… he's not coming back'_. Of course he wasn't coming back; she knew that. She wasn't a complete idiot. She'd lived with that truth for twelve months, two weeks, and four days. And she was moving on. She'd moved out of their lovely flat six months ago. She hadn't been able to endure the memories that were imbedded into every square inch of their place. She'd even replaced all the furnishings, the bed being the first to go.

Being completely honest with herself, she admitted that she had been a bloody prat at work. Thinking back to the day Ron left, she remembered thinking how difficult it would be to working by his side after the break-up. She'd never had the chance to find out because he had not reported to work again. It was then that she realized how much more difficult it was to walk into the ministry and not see him there at all. She had taken her frustration out on one partner after another, and now she was going to have to train a new one…again. This would be the fourth Auror she'd been paired with in the last year.


	4. Unpleasant Surprise

Disclaimer- Okay, again, I don't own Harry Potter, the characters, or anything dealing with it, it all belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. Only the plot is mine.

Author's Note- I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to review, I love you all. This chapter has been edited by my wonderful Beta Coff.

The first thing she did, early the next morning, was to go to George's flat.

During the past year she had established a close bond with him. She found that she could open up to George more than anyone else, often even more than Ginny. He had changed so much in the time since Fred had died. Gone was the tall gangly youth who had worn a perpetual grin on his face. Life had transformed him into a man; his tall frame had become broad and strong, his face held traces of wrinkles caused by a great suffering. The grin was replaced by a bittersweet smile. For a long time it seemed as if he would not be able to recover from the loss.

Then, one day out of the blue, he had announced that he was going to open the shop again. There were even hints of a budding romance with a certain young lady who was also dealing with the loss of Fred.

A muffled curse came from the other side of the door when she knocked. The door was swung open and a very dishevelled and sleepy looking red head stood there with a surprised look on his face.

"Did I wake you?" smiled Hermione.

"No, of course not," he answered sarcastically. "What makes you say that?" He glared at her in mock irritation, and stepped aside so that she could come in.

"Oh, well, in that case, I'm probably just in time for breakfast," Hermione grinned at him, walking into the kitchen and sitting at the small table.

"Only if you're willing to cook it," George retorted, "and we both know that's not likely. I'll make us some tea while you fill me in on the reason you're here at this ungodly hour."

As George busied himself with the tea, Hermione smiled and began to recount the events of the previous night. She didn't omit any part of the story and George was obligingly quiet as she spoke. There was an almost indiscernible upward twitch of his lips when she mentioned casting the Locomotor Mortis at Dean. The small smile was quickly replaced by a frown when she described being disarmed by the suspected Death Eater. To his great relief, she explained how Dean had arrived just in time to help get her out of the mess she'd created. She concluded her tale with the order Harry had given.

George didn't say a thing as he poured them each a cup of what could arguably be the world's strongest brew. After handing Hermione her cup, he sat across from her and levelled a glare at her. There was not a trace of amusement on his face. His silence was a bit distressing, to say the least.

"Oh, George, you can't be mad at me as well. I've already heard it from…"

"Hang on, Hermione," he snapped, holding out his hand. "Stop. I'm trying to sort this out for myself."

He kept his gaze on her, his tea forgotten. She began to fidget nervously under his never ending stare, and yet still he didn't say anything. After several moments he stood up and walked to the sink, pouring his tea down the drain. Turning back to her, he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms.

"Okay, Miss Granger, its time for us to have a little chat, yeah? Look, you've been living your life like this for the last year. It has to stop. I've stood by and watched you lose yourself in that job. Ron left because he had his own demons to deal with. It seems that you're trying to bring in every criminal out there so he can see your world is safe, and come home to you. That's not the going to happen. The truth is it that you've gone out of your way to be in the middle of the most dangerous situations in hopes of bringing him back."

"That's not fair! I do my job just like any other Auror at the Department! What am I supposed to do? Danger is part of the job. I'm highly trained and I can take care of myself. You know that, I shouldn't have to remind you. Oh, and you don't have to remind me that Ron's gone for good! I've had plenty of people telling me lately! And anyway, don't you think I'd already know that?"

"Look," George said impatiently. "I know that you're one of the best Aurors! That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about how each day you lost a little bit more of yourself. Can't you see that? And now, now you're making bad situations that much worse by taking the risks that you did last night!"

He took a deep breath. "It's going to stop. Today. Yeah? You're going to do exactly as Harry said. Take the day off, do whatever you need to do, soul searching, whatever, and then go back tomorrow fresh and ready."

He hesitated before continuing, as though he knew she wouldn't like what he was about to say. "Maybe you should think about asking Kingsley to reassign you to a desk job."

Hermione swallowed, and then nodded. "Okay. Look, even though I think you're, well, over-reacting, I'll take your advice. I mean, not about the desk job. I won't do that, but I will do some 'soul searching' during my day off." She hesitated. "I…well, I love you." She fixed a stern gaze upon him. "Don't let it get to your head," she ordered.

George grinned mischievously at her, and gave her a massive hug. "Oh, isn't that sweet, Hermione!"

She pushed him away, and punched his arm. "I said not to let it get to your head. Now make me some breakfast, I want something to get rid of the taste of this ghastly tea."

Standing in Kingsley Shacklebolt's office two days later, Hermione felt incredibly uneasy. She had tried to get to work early that morning, hoping to get there before Harry arrived. She had really wanted to avoid him for as long as possible. Even though she admitted to herself that she had been irresponsible, she was still rather hurt that he'd used his higher position like that.

Unfortunately, no one had been listening to her wishes. Harry had arrived at exactly the same time that she had. She had initially tried to ignore him as he held the door open for her, but one glance at the hurt look on his face stopped her in her tracks. She took his hand in hers as she passed him, giving it a quick squeeze, before continuing into the office.

Her hair was plaited into two loose braids, leaving a few tendrils to curl rampantly around her worried face. Under her robes she wore artfully ripped jeans tucked into a pair of fur-lined boots and a light brown Henley shirt. Around her neck was a necklace with a heart-shaped pendant that she kept fiddling with as she waited for Kingsley to address her. For several minutes he merely fixed his eyes on her, his elbows on the huge mahogany desk, his chin resting on his interlaced fingers, seemingly in deep contemplation. Harry was patiently leaning against the same desk, arm crossed, facing Hermione.

After an eternity Kingsley's baritone voice gently inquired, "Miss Granger, would you care to remind me how many times I've had to re-assign you in the last twelve months?"

Hermione looked first at Harry then at the wizard in the exotic robes sitting behind the desk. Her hands had dropped to her sides as she clenched them into tight fists.

"Look," she said desperately. "I know how this looks, but it hasn't always been my fault, there have been circumstances…"

"How many times, Miss Granger?" gently persisted Kingsley.

She clamped her mouth closed in the middle of her explanation. Taking a deep breath she began again. "Well, this will be the fourth time, but…" She paused, and then quickly continued before he could interrupt her again. "The first one doesn't count, though, because that was when Ron decided to leave the leave his job."

"That's fair enough," Kingsley nodded. "You weren't responsible for that. The fact remains, however, that since his departure you've gone through three partners."

"I know," Hermione said sheepishly. "I know. Look, I promise that things will get different. I'll be much better from now on. I know I've been an annoyance, and I'm so thankful that you've both been so patient. I promise that I'll be able to get along with any of the Aurors in the department from now on."

Kingsley turned to look at Harry and, with a curt nod, he stood and left the office.

"Take at seat, Hermione," Harry said, walking around the desk and sitting in the chair that Kingsley had just vacated. "I hope you're not still angry with me."

"Well," Hermione said shamefacedly, "I was a little put off before. It's just a little hard to be angry when you've realised it's your fault."

"Good," Harry nodded. "Right, so now I can introduce you to your new partner. He's not here, yet, but we need to talk about some things first."

"Oh no," Hermione said with a groan. "Please don't tell me I'm going to have to train them. I just remembered what a pain it was having to train those other two." She grinned sheepishly at Harry. "I'm really regretting hexing Dean, last night. Are you sure you can't talk him into remaining my partner?"

Harry gave her a small sad smile and shook his head. There was something he was having a hard time telling her. He ran his hand through his hair, straightened his glasses and gave her a deliberate stare.

"Nah," Harry said. "You won't have to train him. He's already been trained at the Scotland Academy of Defence."

Hermione let out a gasp. "The Scotland Academy of Defence?"

Harry nodded. Hermione was incredibly impressed, and, at the same time, a little intimidated. Only a select number of applicants were trained at the Scotland Academy of Defence, and only the very best were able to complete the one year course.

"He'll be here in a few minutes," Harry told her. "Look, Hermione, I really hope it when you said you promised to work with whoever we placed you with."

Hermione swallowed, and then nodded.

"Okay," Harry said. "Well, he trained for a year at the academy, and then spent last year in Bulgaria on a secret mission for the Ministry."

"He was on a secret mission for the Ministry?" Hermione asked bemusedly. "Who is he? Why haven't I heard of him?"

Harry was saved having to answer by a sharp knock at the door. He walked over to the door and opened it. After a slight hesitation, he extended his hand in greeting and allowed the man into the office. Hermione had twisted in her seat to get a look at her new partner.

A small gasp escaped her lips. She stood up and slowly approached the figure standing in the middle of the office. He didn't move at all as she walked around him, taking in all the changes in his appearance since the last time she had seen him. He was taller and his shoulders were broader than she remembered. His expensive robe was perfectly tailored to his new body. His platinum colored hair was shorter and devoid of the gel that had been ever so present in the past. She stopped in front of him and studied his face. The aristocratic features were still there, the strong chin, pointed nose and the way he held his head, but there were some subtle changes like the thin white scar curving from his right temple to the corner of his mouth. Gone was the sneer that had characterized him for the seven years she'd known him, now his face seemed more severe and ruthless. His steely grey eyes were the only feature that had remained unchanged. Those same eyes now locked with hers.

She pulled her gaze away from his, and turned with raised eyebrows to face Harry. "Er, Harry. This is Malfoy," she informed him. "Why am I being partnered with Malfoy?"

Harry had been steeling himself for this from the moment Draco had stepped into the office. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Hermione. "Hermione," he said hesitantly. "Look, I can probably have a fair guess as to what you're thinking -"

"I bet you probably can," retorted Hermione. "But what were you thinking? I mean, if you were thinking at all, that is."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Look, Hermione," he said, slightly impatiently. "He's been reassigned to this department, you need a new partner, and so therefore, you both go together."

Hermione was struck dumb, she stood there looking first at Harry then at Malfoy. It was surreal; she couldn't believe this was happening. The only indication that Malfoy was listening to the exchange was the clenching of his jaw.

"Come, Hermione," Harry said imploringly. "Think of it as a challenge."

"A challenge? Is that what this it? Are you trying to make my life so miserable that I'll walk away? It won't work Harry. I'm not walking away and I'M NOT WORKING WITH DRACO MALFOY!"

Draco snickered, and walked over to sit on the edge of the desk. He crossed his arms and continued to gaze at the arguing couple with a look of impatience. Hermione glared at him then returned her attention to Harry.

"Of all the Aurors in the department, you decide that I need to work with Malfoy? Merlin, Harry, have you forgotten what he was like at school? And how can you overlook the way he treated Ron and his family? If all that has escaped your memory, Harry, how about the night Dumbledore died, do you remember the Death Eaters getting into Hogwarts? Do you remember who made that possible?"

"I told you this'd happen, Potter." Malfoy drawled, sounding mildly annoyed. "But of course, you didn't listen to me."

"Draco, shut up and let me handle this. I'm still not completely comfortable with this arrangement myself, so please just keep your mouth closed right now. I told you yesterday, no one knows Hermione better than me. She'll listen to reason and eventually she'll appreciate the importance of her cooperation."

"Don't talk about me as if I'm not here," Hermione said angrily.

Draco caught her eye and with the lift of one eyebrow, he caused her to blush. That had been exactly what she had been doing just minutes earlier to him.

Harry walked back to the chair behind the desk and sat down. Facing both his Aurors he leaned back and simply ordered them to sit down and listen their instructions.

"Hermione," Harry said. "You're going to be Malfoy's partner, right? And you'll do exactly as you promised earlier. For Merlin's sake, we're not children anymore. He's not, well, that much of a git anymore. I don't really want everything to fall apart, just because you can't get on with people I partner you with."

He turned determinedly to Malfoy. "And you, I expect you to keep your promise as well. Don't antagonise her. I really just want you to be able to work together, for Merlin's sake."

He looked at them both for a moment, before he seemed to assure himself that they really were going to do what he said.

"Kingsley said to have the rest of the day to, well, get to know each other. Come back later this afternoon, so we can go over some stuff."

Hermione stood and walked to the door without looking back. She quickly rushed out into the corridor, walking without even knowing where she was going. She didn't hear him come up behind her, but, without warning, she felt an iron grip on her wrist. Before she knew what he had in mind, she was being led to the lift. As she stood next to him, her wrist still trapped in his vice-like grip, she attempted to free herself, making him hold on that much tighter. As she looked up at him, the steely eyes glazed with controlled rage, stopping her words of protest. Getting off the lift, they continued walking toward the office she had shared with Dean. Draco must've been here before because he knew exactly which door to go into. Only after he had closed the door did he let her loose.

"What?" she shouted. "What do you want? I have a lot of work to do and I would appreciate it if you would leave my office now."

There was nothing to indicate that he'd heard a word she said. His icy veneer never wavered. Walking around Dean's desk, he slowly turned around to face her with a determined look. "You heard Potter, Granger. We have to get reacquainted. And this is our office now."

Hermione's quickly looked across the room. Her browed furrowed into a scowl as she noticed that all of Dean's things were indeed missing from the desk. Gone was the wedding picture of him and Luna as well as all the photograph of Seamus and himself on the fishing trip they'd gone on last year. Also missing was the mess of papers and half empty coffee cups that usually littered his half of the office. Instead, the desk was almost completely bare, no photographs of loved ones, nothing out of place, only some parchment, ink well, quills and a small lamp.

"I don't really need to spend the entire morning with you Malfoy," Hermione snapped. "We know each other quite well, don't you think? I know you're a two faced ferret, and you know better than to try my patience."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Don't you think name calling is a little immature, Granger?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. "Oh, so you're not immature anymore? I suppose, I haven't heard you call me a mudblood yet. But what I really want to know is how you talked the Ministry into giving you a job." She smiled sarcastically at him. "I mean, how did you get them to overlook the lovely tattoo on your arm…"

Malfoy exhaled in annoyance. "Yeah, okay. I'm a two faced ferret, as you've already said. I'm a callous bastard. I only care about myself. I'm a coward, I switched sides in the middle of a war. Is there anything else?"

"No," retorted Hermione, "you're also a git, a Death Eater, and an arrogant prat." She nodded, tilting her head to the side. "That's about it."

"Alright, then," he said, and Hermione was shocked to see that he was amused. "Now that we've got that off out chest, can we start acting a little more mature?"

There was an awkward silence while they regarded each other.

Malfoy rolled his eyes again. "Look, did you want to go get something to eat?"

"You'd better take off your robes then," she challenged. "I'm in the mood for tea from Sotheby's."

How she ended up sitting with Draco Malfoy at Sotheby's Café having biscuits and tea, was beyond her. She had been sure that he would balk at an outing to muggle London, but he had stunned her by accepting without even a hint of a sneer. Before she could think of way to get out of it, they had started out of the office, back into the lift and proceeded to exit the ministry.

Once outside they had apparated to the back of a small book store about four blocks from the café. It was the spot she always used when she wanted to go there. The walk to their destination was quiet; neither of them uttered a word. Hermione was a little surprised to notice that he'd adjusted his pace to match hers so she wouldn't have to run to keep up with him. She was also taken aback by his attire; she had never seen him wear anything but his school uniform, his robes or a quiditch uniform. There was a confident ease in which he wore the apparently expensive muggle clothing, and there was no denying that he could be described as extremely sexy, that is if you were into tall fair-haired mysterious types, that is. Her tastes ran more along the lines of big redheaded lovable oafs. But she did suddenly feel a bit under-dressed and wished she had suggested eating in the dining hall at the ministry.

There was usually a waiting period of several minutes before being seated, but after a boyish smirk from Draco, the blushing hostess immediately found them a table. Hermione gave a small snort and rolled her eyes. Malfoy turned and gave her an innocent. She just shook her head and followed their hostess to their table, trying not to notice the exaggerated swaying of her hips.

The funny thing was that after all the screeching and screaming she'd done earlier, she now felt oddly shy sitting across from this silent stranger in one of her favourite places to go in muggle Westminster. He sat back in his chair and leaned slightly to the left, his right leg stretched out before him, absently stirring his tea. For a few minutes it seemed as if he had forgotten she was there. She took the opportunity to just observe him. He was so different. There was an undeniable aura of danger that radiated from him. Her scrutiny led to the discovery of a tattoo peaking out from the cuff of his shirt. It was hard to be sure, but it looked like it might be a dragon's tail. She was intrigued because she knew that it was the same arm that had received the dark mark. Her gaze continued up his arm, noticing that there were tattoos visible at his collar as well. The dark ink was vivid against his fair skin. She felt herself blush as she met a pair of hard steel hued eyes that were trained on her.

"I thought you'd finished your inspection of me back in Shacklebolt's office."

"Don't be a prat, Malfoy." She snapped, as she felt a blush creep into her face.

For a moment, Malfoy didn't say anything. When he did, however, the words came as a complete shock.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "Old habits are hard to break."

Looking away, she was at a loss for words. Taking a sip of her quickly cooling tea, she suddenly wished she were sipping on something a bit stronger. She could feel his gaze on her. Chancing a glance at him she saw him perusing her in much the same manner in which she'd looked at him earlier. When his eyes locked onto to hers there was a momentary flicker of something she couldn't quite name but before she could question it, or even really process it in her mind, it was gone.

Hermione swallowed apprehensively before deciding to at least try to make small talk. "Er," she began, "you trained at the Scotland Academy?"

She was nervously twisting her serviette in her lap. She couldn't understand what in the world was wrong with her. She was acting remarkably like the hostess that had seated them only moments before. This was Malfoy, for Merlin's sake!

"Yes."

"And you've spent time in Bulgaria?"

"I have."

"Have you been back in London long?"

"No."

"So, which one did it? The academy or Bulgaria," she asked curiously.

"Pardon?" The indifferent veneer seemed to crack a little.

"Well," Hermione said innocently, "I was just wondering which of those two experiences changed you from the snivelling Slytherin Prince, to this, oh I don't know, amazing Auror Harry was talking about."

"Slytherin Ice King"

It was her turn to look at him blankly.

"You said Slytherin Prince, I was known as the Slytherin Ice King. Come on Granger, you, of all people, should know how important I regard lineage and titles."

"Malfoy," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Don't be a git. But I notice you've started talking in more than one word sentences."

"I'll stop acting like a git," Malfoy retorted, "when you stop provoking me. And I'm perfectly capable of talking in proper sentences."

"Look, Malfoy, why don't we make this easy on the both of us? I don't want to work with you, you don't want to work with me, so why don't we just tell Kingsley and Harry that it's not going to work?"

"Granger, where did you get the notion that I don't want to work with you?"

"I'm not in mood to play games, Malfoy. I don't care what you want at this point. The thing is that I don't trust you. I'll never trust you. Besides, I do believe and I really have never said this to anyone in my life, but I truly believe that I hate you."

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "Well," he said, sounding quite impressed, "your bluntness is rather refreshing, I must say. Look, I can't change the way you feel about me, and to be honest, I don't really give a shit what your feelings are. I do care, however, about my career, and this assignment, which I've been working towards for a long time."

He took a deep breath, as though he was trying to steady himself before continuing. "Things have been, well, difficult for me, especially since I've got that 'rather nice tattoo' on my arm, as you said before, and I'm not going to let you and your feelings get in the way."

They sat facing each other, the tea and biscuits untouched. Hermione was quite positive that if there were such things as Unforgivable Glares, Draco Malfoy would have been dropping dead right about now. Draco's face was hard and unreadable. His unwavering gaze was not giving any of his inner turmoil away.

"Oh, I can imagine how difficult it has been for you. What with having to try to convince everyone that the reason you were such an arsehole for seven years and the reason for you taking the dark mark was because you were forced to. And trying to prove to everyone that you're not the same arsehole you were back then. I bet that took a lot of time and energy. But look at you now, Wonder Man. You must be an amazing actor."

"Granger," Malfoy said coldly. "Let us get something crystal clear. I'm still the same arsehole you knew at school. It would benefit you to remember that. There are some who may say that I've changed, but the fact is I am still the same person. The only thing that is different is the fact that I now recognize that my views were a bit skewed. If you're still the smartest witch ever to come out of Hogwarts you would know better than to perceive my change of view as a weakness."

"I'm smart enough to know that this conversation is over," Hermione said angrily, and, with a loud pop, she disapparated.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - Dinner at Draco's

**Chapter 5 - Dinner at Draco's**

**Disclaimer****- Okay, again, I don't own Harry Potter, the characters, or anything dealing with it, it all belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. Only the plot is mine.**

**Author's Note****- I want to thank everyone that has taken time to read my first fanfic. I am truly humbled by those who have taken a few minutes to leave me a comment. **

Not wanting to go back to her office for fear of having Malfoy follow her there and not really having anyplace to be until later on that afternoon, Hermione decided to go to the only place in the world where she could find true peace.

The library was located directly behind the offices of the Ministry of Magic. As she walked in she noticed that there was hardly anyone there at that time of the day. She quietly walked over to a section that housed the vast amount of public domain documents. After searching for a few minutes she found what she was looking for. These were the official deposition documents of the inquest of Draco Malfoy immediately following the downfall of Voldemort.

By the time she left the library Hermione's head was spinning. What was the Ministry playing at? It was all there in those rolls of parchment, all of it; his plan to murder Dumbledore, his initiation into a death eater, his attempt to send the cursed locket almost killing Katie Bell, the poisoning of the wine that almost killed Ron, as well as an admission that he was present when Charity Burbage was murdered. The list went on and on. How could they set all that aside? He epitomized everything that they had fought against. It was because of wizards like him that Ron had decided to leave the only world he'd ever known.

Shacklebolt was sitting behind his huge desk when she walked in. Harry was sitting in one of the chairs against the far wall and a very irate Draco Malfoy was pacing the room. He stopped in mid-stride when she walked in and rounded on her, a murderous look in his eyes. For a brief second Hermione was grateful she wasn't alone with him.

Kingsley's rich voice would be considered soothing most of the time, but not when he was upset at one of his aurors.

"Miss Granger, please come in and close the door. Thank you. Please take a seat," he motioned to the only empty chair in the room.

"Now Miss Granger, I seems like it was just yesterday, that you stood in this very room and proclaimed to Harry and myself that you were ready to start anew. Be 'more professional' I believe were your words. No, wait. It wasn't yesterday was it? It was just a few hours ago. But how can it be that the same woman who stood here and uttered those words would leave this office, go to a muggle café then disapparate in front of the entire establishment!" he ended with a bellow.

"Mr. Shacklebolt…," she began.

"No, not this time Hermione," he interrupted her. "Do you have any idea how fortunate you were that there were two wizards sitting in the same café? They were able to assist Mr. Malfoy in modifying the memories of all the occupants of the establishment. My patience is beginning to wear a little thin Granger."

"Kingsley, I know what I did was inappropriate…" she began again.

"Inappropriate? Try illegal Hermione," interjected Harry. He walked over and stood in front of her chair facing her. "I would never have believed you'd be foolish enough to break code of secrecy. Have you gone completely mental? When I spoke to you this morning I asked you to trust me on this and I thought you'd at least try."

"Try? How about you try to explain to me what's going on here? I just don't understand how you can turn a blind eye to everything he's done Harry," she said softly. "I just finished reading the deposition he gave when he was arrested. If you've forgotten the horrors he's committed, go and have a look at the documents. And even if you want to forgive and forget, that doesn't make it any easier for me to do the same."

Kneeling in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders, he asked, "We have been monitoring Malfoy for two years Hermione. Do you think we're a bunch of stupid, incompetent gits? Give us a some credit," he said. "Are you going to trust me or not?" Their eyes met and held it was as if they were the only two people in the office.

Taking a deep breath, she swallowed the tears she feared were coming, refusing to cry in front of Malfoy, she nodded. Keeping her head bent, she waited for whatever was coming.

"Excuse me Potter, I hate to break up this touching little scene, but I think I should at the very least have an opportunity to voice my opinion about this working arrangement," Draco's sardonic voice brought them back. He had walked over and was standing directly behind Hermione's chair.

"Draco, we can really do without your sarcasm right now," said Shacklebolt.

"This is brilliant," said Draco softly. "She runs around for over a year doing whatever she pleases, whether it's hexing her partner or disapparating in full view of forty muggles, and I get reprimanded for my tone… unbelievable."

Draco had begun to pace again, he then stopped in front of the minister and placing both hands on the desk, he leaned forward and directed his next words to Kingsley, his body language leaving no doubt that he had nothing left to say to either Harry or Hermione, his voice deep and menacing, "Mr. Minister, let's get something straight, I will do the job I signed up for, but that job does not include babysitting a self-absorbed brat. If she is allowed to continue to do as she pleases I will not work with her. I refuse to coddle her the way you and the rest of your people have done. Miss Granger has some growing up to do and she better get it done soon. If she ever pulls a stunt like she did today again, I will not be responsible for my actions." Straightening his back, he turned and gave Harry a curt nod, completely ignored Hermione, and walked out.

Kingsley leaned back in his chair and said, "Miss Granger, your actions this morning are extremely troubling to the ministry. You will be written up on this and I am putting you on notice, any more incidents like this and you will be subject to disciplinary action in front of the tribunal.

"I completely understand Minister. My behavior was anything but professional. It will not happen again," said a very staid Hermione.

"Kingsley, I feel partly at fault here. I should have gone and talked to Hermione yesterday. I should have, at the very least, given her a warning about who she was going to get as a partner," said Harry.

Turning to Hermione he said, "Hermione, Draco has worked hard to get where he is today. Every day he has had to deal with people who know his past and refuse to let it go. The instructors at the academy all agree that they've never seen someone train harder and learn faster than Malfoy. You have to remember that he didn't have the kind of experience in dueling that we had. Nevertheless, in the short time that he's been out of the academy, he has earned the reputation of being one of the top curse breakers. It is that gift and his proficiency with potions that make him your ideal partner."

"I'm at a loss. I don't know what I'm supposed to say. I can appreciate how difficult it is to overcome the preconceived views of others, but it is going to be damned hard for me to ever trust him Harry."

"We have at least nine possible leads into the whereabouts of some of the most wanted death eaters. I need your reassurance that you will put aside your personal feelings and get to work with Draco," said Kingsley. "I'm not asking you to be his friend, just his partner."

Hermione soberly agreed, knowing that she was trained, not in an academy, but on the battlefield, to do this work and she was not going to let Malfoy stop her. And, to be absolutely honest with herself, she knew that she'd been wrong to do what she'd done in the cafe. The small voice inside her head was gently reminding her that everyone deserved a second chance. Harry smiled knowingly at her as if he was reading her thoughts.

"I trust that you will do what you need to from now on Miss Granger," said Shacklebolt looking at her through his steepled fingers.

"Yes sir. If that is all, then I'll get back to work now," she answered standing up and walking to the door.

"Kingsley, I'll be right back, I need to have a few words with Hermione in private," said Harry following her out.

Once they had stepped out of the office Harry placed his hand on her shoulder to stop her, "Hermione, please, can I talk to you for a second?"

She stopped and turned to face her friend. There was a look of uncertainty on her face.

"I know how you feel, and I can't blame you. Don't think for one minute that I didn't feel the same way. But I _have_ done my homework on this and he is a brilliant curse breaker and considering the raids you've been to and the dark objects you've handled, I am going to be much more comfortable knowing he's with you."

"I know you'd never have allowed us to be paired up unless you knew something I didn't know. It's just been a shock. I would never have expected him to join our ranks much less end up being my partner. And honestly I'm mortified at what I did back in the café. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing someone else doing these stupid things, kind of an out-of-body experience. One minute I'm having a rational conversation or having an ordinary day, the next minute I'm body-binding Dean or something just as crazy," she said looking at him with tear-filled eyes.

"Hey, keep that chin up. Don't cry. We've been through worse than this," Harry said placing two fingers under her chin and looking into her eyes. She gave him a watery smile and he pulled her into an embrace.

"Thanks Harry," she said into his chest. "I don't know what I'd done without you and all my friends this past year. Please don't give up on me. I promise to get better."

Walking into her office Hermione was surprised to see Draco was still there. He was standing by the window at the opposite end of the small office, his back to her. He was wearing his robes again and the garment fit his broad back perfectly making Hermione remember that this Draco was very different from the scrawny kid she'd known at school. Her first instinct was to turn and walk away, but she quickly changed her mind, deciding that now would be a good a time as any to start over. She was holding a manila folder Belinda had just handed her. It contained information about their next possible raid. Hermione stood with the file clutched to her chest, not quite sure whether to approach him or not. Valor won out over cowardice. Walking over stand next to him, she too looked out the window.

"Malfoy, I'm sorry about this morning. I was way out of line," she stood next to him, both of them looking at nothing out the window.

"Yes, well I guess I was a little out of line too," he answered continuing to look out the window.

"Do you think we can do this Malfoy?'

"Yes."

"Why?"

Turning to look at her for the first time he said, "Because we have to. You and I may be a lot of things Granger, but we have always done what needed to be done."

She silently nodded her head, still looking ahead.

"We're going to have to learn how to speak to each other with some semblance of respect," she said.

"I agree. Maybe we can start by calling each other by our first names," he suggested.

Hermione took a steadying breath and turned to face him. Her rich brown eyes met his clear gray eyes, "Draco, how would you like to have dinner tonight? We can try to get to know each other and go over this information that Belinda just gave to me. There's a new Italian restaurant near here." She could feel her face begin to blush but she continued to look at him.

"Alright, but why don't we have dinner at my place? It will be quieter, we can get some work done and if I say something to piss you off and make you leave, I won't have an entire restaurant to obliviate," he said with the first real smile she'd seen from him today.

"That's probably a good idea," she said with a guilty smile. "But you'll have to tell me where you live."

"Why don't you just floo over tonight, my flat is set up for it. How about six thirty?"

"Six thirty is fine. Do you need for me to bring anything?"

Shaking his head, "no, I'll take care of everything," he said.

"Alright then, I guess I'll see you tonight. I've got to go see turn in the last of my report on Reginald Angis before leaving for the day. And I've got to stop by George Weasley's before going home. He turns into a bit of a nutter if he doesn't know where I'm at," she said. She thought she saw a darkening of Draco's eyes, but she must have imagined it because when she looked again it was gone.

Hermione rushed home to change. She was beginning to get a tremendous headache. Her visit with George had been a bit strained. He was not overly thrilled with her meeting Draco at his apartment. She had to keep reassuring him that it was all work related. He could not believe that Harry had willingly assigned them to work together. Fortunately for Hermione, Angelina was visiting George and was able to help her calm him down. He could be such a Weasley sometimes.

She changed into a pair of dark denim skinny jeans and a black tunic. She slipped on some red leather flats and added a pair of tiny red drop earrings. Looking at her reflection, she wondered about the best way to tackle her hair. Her normally curly locks were even more so after being braided all day. Without too much choice in the matter, she swept her hair into one loose braid and added a touch of makeup and lip-gloss. She put the manila folder, her wand and a small makeup bag into her large red tote, and after grabbing a small of amount of powder from the container on the mantle, she stepped into the fireplace and said, "Draco Malfoy's flat."

Draco was just walking into the living room when she stepped out of his fireplace. She took his hand as he stepped forward to help her out. Taking a few steps, she released his hand and looked around the beautifully furnished room.

"Hello Draco, your place is very nice," she said.

"Thanks. I really had nothing to do with it. All the credit goes to my decorator," he grinned. "You can put your bag on that table by the mantle. Have a seat, I'll be right back."

Hermione looked around the room. Even though it was a large room, it was very welcoming. The warm, rich soft chocolate leather couches with the dark teal and amber throw pillows seemed to beckon visitors to sit. The hardwood floor was accented with a large cream flokati rug that begged for someone to walk barefoot through it. The accent tables, the color of dark roasted coffee, held lamps with auburn tinted glass bases with chocolate swirls, brushed gold accents and black linen shades. Each of the walls was bare, except for one framed piece of art on each. The impressionist art was magnificent.

She turned as Draco walked in with two glasses of wine. He walked over to her and handed her one.

"These are beautiful Draco," she said, looking at a painting of what appeared to be water lilies.

"Yes they are. Thank you. Malfoy Manor is filled with fine art from all the great painters, but Monet was always my favorite. I can lose myself in his work."

"They're truly lovely," she said, taking a glass of wine from him. She was again reminded of how handsome he looked in regular clothes. He was wearing brown loafers, a pair of faded denim jeans and a white button up shirt, untucked, and with the sleeves rolled up. Her eyes were drawn to his left forearm and the dragon tattoo that was there.

"Come on, have a seat. Dinner will be ready soon."

"It smells wonderful. I never knew you were a cook," she said sitting on the soft leather couch.

He looked at her with a crooked smile as he sat opposite her on the love seat and said, "Again, I can't take the credit. I borrowed mother's cook, Emery, for the evening. I hope you're hungry."

"Whatever he's cooking smells delicious. I'm famished, I haven't really eaten all day," she said, blushing as she remembered her uneaten breakfast at the café.

Draco noticing her discomfort started to say something, but he was interrupted by Emery announcing that dinner was ready. He stood and offered Hermione his arm as he led her to a small dining room. Here too, there were beautiful paintings on the walls. The small dining table was made of the same rich dark wood as the accent tables in the living room. There was an amazing Tiffany chandelier, stained glass and burnished gold, hanging over the table.

He pulled a chair out for her and took the chair opposite her. They were quiet as Emery served them the penne a la Puttanesca and the lemon and rosemary grilled chicken with couscous and sautéed mushrooms. After one bite Hermione thought she had died and gone to heaven. Draco watched her close her eyes in complete bliss as she ate a piece of the chicken, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I don't think I ever seen anyone show reverence to a meal like you do Granger," Draco said with a rare twinkle in his eyes after observing her savor her meal for several minutes.

"There aren't too many things that make my toes curl with unadulterated satisfaction. I may have to kidnap Emery," she teased back.

"You'd return him before long, he is an outstanding chef, but a bit high strung and I know your temper; I don't think you'd tolerate him for too long."

She gave him a lopsided grin and reached for her wine glass. Sitting back in her chair she observed him once again.

"So, tell me. How did you get here Draco? I mean, the last time I saw you, you seemed a little lost, not really sure where you belonged."

Draco took a sip from his wine and contemplated the question. "Lost? I guess I was. It's a curious thing when a person is faced with the realization that everything they've ever believed in is wrong. My parents had gone through hell. Father realized too late that he had chosen the wrong side from the beginning and his family had paid the price." His face could have been set in stone.

Hermione was at a loss as to what to say. She had never taken the time to look at how difficult an adjustment life had to have been for all the Malfoys. She remembered the arrogance of Lucius Malfoy and his wife Narcissa. In retrospect, it would have been hard for them to face the truth in the harsh light of the new day.

"I'm sorry Draco," she said. "I never stopped to think about what you and your family had gone through or the huge adjustments you must have had to make"

"Yeah, well, my father bounced back pretty quickly," he said with a smirk. "He may have lost ninety five percent of his friends, but he still had the Malfoy charm. He has been able to, not only maintain the family business, but amazingly enough, he's more successful than before. I believe mother has suffered the most. It was difficult for her to stand by as Voldemort punished my father and at the same time have to worry about my safety. Like any good wife and mother, she put herself last, always doing what needed to be done for her family's safety. She never really had a chance to think about herself. There are many things I regret about my past, but the fact that my father and I put mother through so much suffering is one of the things I regret the most."

"What about you Draco? How did you manage after the war?"

"I had some help from Professor Slughorn. He came to me and asked what I wanted to do. I had no clue. He's the one who suggested the academy and I jumped at the chance to just get away," he said, leaning over to refill both their glasses.

"Were you nervous? I mean…going to a strange place, no one familiar with you. Especially since you were never alone at school, you always had your minions around."

"It was liberating. I didn't have to put on an act or try to be someone I wasn't. There was no one to let down, but myself. I began the academy with not a whole lot of confidence in myself but I soon learned that I had a real propensity for potions. I must have really been listening all those years to Snape," Draco said. He was looking at Hermione with that strange look on his face.

Hermione returned his look, holding her glass, running a finger around the rim, she asked, "So what happened after the academy?"

"I was given a job at the ministry and sent to Bulgaria immediately after graduation. There were some vampires that were wreaking havoc," he grimaced at the recollection. "It was pretty intense, but after about ten months of living in caves and eating things that I don't care to talk about, the problem was taken care of and I was ready to return home," he said. "Now, lets have our dessert in the living room, shall we?"

"Dessert? I don't think I can eat another bite," she said standing up and following him to the living room.

"I'm afraid that Emery will be extremely disappointed if you don't try his chocolate cannoli."

Hermione sat on the couch and Draco sat next to her. This was probably the closest they'd ever been to one another. She had a fleeting thought that this felt right and she didn't know why.

Emery brought out the dessert tray with a dessert for each of them as well as two cups of coffee. They sat in companionable silence and enjoyed the wonderfully prepared cannoli. After a few bites she was full.

"Please, I beg you, take this away before I explode," she pleaded.

"You could do with a few more desserts Hermione, you're a bit thinner than you were in school."

Hermione's heart did a strange little dance at the sound of her name on his lips for the first time. Her eyes met and held his for what seemed like an eternity. Pulling her gaze away, she focused on his arm and asked, "Its all the running around I do. Honestly I have a huge appetite. What about this? When did you get this tattoo," she asked, gently placing a finger on the dragon.

He visibly trembled when her finger touched his flesh, but his voice remained calm. "My first tattoo was given to me by a crazy old man in a tiny village in Bulgaria but I got this one when I returned to England. I went out with some old friends and we all got little smashed in a small pub in Knockturn Alley. I don't really remember much after that. When I woke up the next morning I had a massive headache and this tattoo on my arm." He pushed his sleeve up a bit further to reveal more of the intricately detailed dragon consuming the skull that had been previously tattooed by the dark lord. "I suppose it represents my family surviving the war and Voldemort."

The dragon was coiled around his forearm; its pointed tail resting on his wrist, the body wove its way toward his biceps. The only bits of color on the beast were the steely gray eyes that seemed to be intently looking at her, eliciting a small gasp from her.

"Sorry. I guess the wine is getting to me," she smiled timidly. She began to get to her feet. "Maybe I should go now."

"I've answered all your questions and I haven't had a chance to ask you anything," he said, gently grabbing her wrist and pulling her back to the couch. "Please stay a while longer."

There was a jolt of electricity the instant he touched her and the flare in his eyes proved he'd felt it too. They were both caught off guard and simply stared at one another without saying a word for several seconds.

"Umm…now… what about you Hermione?" he asked not letting go of her wrist. "What happened between you and the Weasel? I thought you were going to live happily ever after."

"Weasley, Draco. Don't start being a prat now," she said with a small frown. He simply shrugged his shoulders and waited for her to continue.

She knew he was not going to show any remorse so she just went on, "I don't know how to explain it. I don't even know if it's possible to explain at all. We loved each other but it wasn't enough. After all the crap we'd endured during the war all he wanted was peace and quiet, I wasn't ready for that. The dangers I faced daily were too much for him. In the end our love wasn't enough or maybe it was too much. Either way, one day he just left me, our world, everything," she finished in a whisper.

"And now you're dating his brother? That's bloody brilliant." Draco's steel grey eyes bored into hers as he downed the last of his wine.

"What? No!" her brown eyes were wide with surprise at the conclusion he'd come to. She pulled her wrist away and held her wine glass with both hands. "I'm not dating anyone Draco. George Weasley is one of my best friends. He's dating Angelina Johnson and getting the chance at the happiness he deserves."

Draco took possession of her hand again. Pulling her closer he whispered, "You know Hermione, even when I was spouting all that "Mudblood" shit, I knew you were too good for Weasley or anyone else at Hogwarts for that matter, including myself," he said, staring at her huge brown eyes. "In this fucked up world there's not a whole lot of certainties in life, but one thing I am absolutely sure of is that Ronald Weasley is a completely ignorant fool for walking away from you," His nose a breath away from hers. With the slightest of tilt of his head their noses brushed against each other, his eyes pierced hers with an unasked question.

Hermione slowly shook her head and pulled away. "I've brought over the file I got from Belinda this afternoon," she said in a quivering voice, tearing her eyes away from his. She bolted from the couch and walked over to the table to get her bag.

He smiled at her obvious attempt to hide her nervousness. Draco knew that under the circumstances, he should be a little ruffled himself but if he'd learned anything in the past two years, it was that patience usually paid off.

Hermione came back to the couch and was laying out the papers on the couch between them. "Here is a list of the people that Reginald Angis has given us. Some of the people on this list have been thought to be dead for more than two years," she pointed out.

Draco knew that once Hermione Granger got into work mode, there was no going back. He sighed and leaned over to read the list she'd handed him. They were bent over their work for more than two hours before Hermione stretched and said that it was getting late.

"I can't believe how late it is," she said, standing up and twisting at the waist to get the kinks out. "I really need to get going. Thanks for the wonderful dinner. Please give Emery my thanks and my compliments," she said stifling a yawn.

"It was my pleasure. Just leave that stuff there and I'll take in to the office in the morning. I guess I'll see tomorrow," said Draco.

"Alright, thanks. Good night Draco," grabbing her bag, she looked at him, gave him a small smile and disapparated.

Lying in her bed that night, Hermione replayed the evening over in her head and fell asleep with a small smile on her lips.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 - ****Damnatio Memoriae**

**Disclaimer****- ****Okay, again, I don't own Harry Potter, the characters, or anything dealing with it, it all belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. Only the plot is mine.**

**Author's Note****-**** I want to thank everyone that has taken time to read my first fanfic. I truly appreciate your reviews**

The next two weeks passed by in a blur. The information that the ministry received from Angis proved to be very reliable. Hermione and Draco, along with several other auror teams, had successful raids almost every night. On a few occasions Kingsley and Harry had even joined them. It was easy to see why the death eaters had been trying to get to Angis before the ministry got to him, the man was a virtual fountain of information. They had arrested more than twenty-nine death eaters in the past fourteen days, but several had managed to escape. Their intelligence reports indicated that most of them were going to ground and they were getting more and more desperate. There were not too many things more dangerous than a desperate death eater.

This particular day, Hermione and Draco had spent the entire morning and some of the afternoon in the debriefing room. She was having a difficult time not strangling him. He was probably the best dueler she had seen since Harry but he had become unbearably protective of her during the raids. The man was insufferably stubborn. He went out of his way to drive her crazy. She thought about the way things had gone the night before, wondering at the workings of Draco's mind.

_They'd gone out to the Shrieking Shack the night before. When they'd arrived, they found three of the death eaters Angis had named, Mervin Actis, Allan Coates, and Mabella Corvallis. All three were suspected in the kidnapping and torture of muggles and they were a bit unwilling to surrender without a fight. Just as Hermione was about to hit them with a disarming spell, Draco flicked his wand at her and she was immediately pushed back out of the way. He then proceeded to dodge two crucio curses and one Avada Kedavra. He rolled across the floor, stood up and began to shoot non-verbal spells at the three. Twice she tried to get up to help and twice she was thrown back by a flick of his wrist. She was furious. Why couldn't he let her do her job? The death eaters ran out of the shack with Draco following close behind. Hermione got up and followed them out, running as fast as she could. Once she'd gotten outside, she lost all of them in the dark. Standing perfectly still, letting her other senses take over, she heard a rustling in the brush and cautiously followed the sound. She entered a clearing and was immediately surrounded by flashes green and red. She was able to cast a body- binding curse at Mabella who was standing the closest to her. Dropping to the ground, she crawled as fast as she could toward a large boulder on the outskirts of the clearing. Right before she got to the rock, she saw Draco come out from behind it with his wand drawn. She turned as she heard Mervin Actis cast the Cruciatus Curse at her and tried to brace herself for the pain that would rack her body when the spell hit her, but it never came. The spell missed by a centimeter, making her hair swirl around her as it whizzed by and Draco uttered his first verbal spell, "Sectumsempra!" Mervin dropped to the ground with screams of agony. His remaining accomplice froze at the sight of so much blood pouring from the wound across his companion's abdomen. _

_Hermione struggled to stand on shaky legs. Once she was standing, she hurriedly disarmed and cast a body-binding curse on the remaining death eater. She turned to cast a healing spell on Mervin but just as she was going to cast the spell, Draco uttered, "Protego!" and her spell bounced off. She turned to shout at him to let her try to help the fallen man but the words froze on her lips. Never had she seen Draco so angry. The look on his face was feral. His steely glare made her blood chill. Hermione warily approached him and laid her hand softly on his arm._

"_Draco, you need to let me help him," she pleaded._

"_No, I don't think I do," he said without any outward sign of emotion._

"_Draco, the man will die if I don't do something," she reiterated, gently pulling on his arm. She got no response._

"_Malfoy! He's not worth it! Let me help him. Now!" she was getting a bit desperate._

_Draco's voice was deceptively calm, his eyes as cold as ice, "Let him fucking die."_

"_You don't mean that!"_

_He stared at her as he took her hand and began to pull her away so they could disapparate, but she yanked her hand away._

"_No, we can't leave him to die Draco," she screeched at him._

"_Do you honestly think I give a flying fuck what happens to him? Did you happen to notice that he cast the Cruciatus Curse at you?" questioned a still very calm Draco._

"_I know, but he missed and I'm alright. Draco the man is scum, but we have a legal system. He'll pay for his crimes, but only if he doesn't bleed to death.." The puddle of blood around the body was growing at an alarming rate. _

_Draco glared at her for what seemed an eternity. He finally relented and took off the shield around the man but he would not let her heal him. With a look of unadulterated malice, he walked over to the man and mumbled an incantation Hermione had never heard, immediately sealing the wound. The spell he cast allowed the wound to stop bleeding and seal, but had done nothing to alleviate the pain the man was in. Mervin's agonized moans reverberated through the woods. _

_Just when Hermione thought she could not stand the sound of his screams any longer, Dean and Seamus arrived. After a quick look around, Seamus transported the two uninjured prisoners to the ministry and Dean transported Mervin to St. Mungos._

_When they had all gone and it was just the two of them left, Hermione turned to look at Draco. His expression was still livid and she had no idea how to approach him. She walked over and placed her hand on his arm, grabbing hold of him, she disapparated them back to her flat. When they arrived in her small living room she let go of his arm and went to the kitchen. Upon returning with two glasses and a bottle of firewhiskey she noticed that he had used a cleansing charm to clean the blood off his shoes. He was acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened._

"_Here," she said handing him a glass. "Draco, sit down please."_

_He accepted the drink without saying a word, a slight tremble of his hand the only evidence that he was human after all, but he remained standing. _

"_Draco, your job as an auror is to go out and arrest these criminals, that's my job as well. You can't keep trying to do your job and at the same time try to protect me. I'm an auror because I know how to bring them down. I've been fighting dark wizards since I was eleven years old. I can take care of myself. What happened to 'I'm not going to coddle her'? I hope that I never have to tell you again Draco. Cut out the protective big brother act. I don't appreciate it."_

_Glaring at her, he downed his firewhiskey, gently placed his glass down on an end table and turned. With a pop he was gone. _

And now here they were, trying to give their report without speaking to each other. Seamus had already reported that the Corvallis and Coates had been sent to Azkaban to await trial. According to Dean, Mervin Actis had spent the night in St. Mungos and they were still trying to stop the pain that was ripping through his body. By the time they were all finished giving their account of the previous evening, it was past two in the afternoon. At the end of the meeting Draco stood up to leave and Hermione followed him out.

"Draco, you know you're going to have to go to St. Mungos," said Hermione running to after him.

"I don't have any business there," he replied without breaking his long stride.

"Draco, stop! Can you please stop long enough for me to talk to you? I can't keep up with you."

He stopped and waited patiently for her to catch up with him. Hermione was glaring at him and he merely shrugged and began to walk, slower this time.

"Draco, you are the only one that can stop that man's pain. He has been punished enough." This comment made Draco hike an eyebrow up and curl his lip into a sneer.

"Okay, maybe he hasn't suffered enough but he'll stand trial just like the rest of them and he'll pay for his crimes. We are not animals Malfoy; we cannot keep torturing that man when we have the means to stop his suffering. It's inhumane."

Arriving at their office, Draco opened the door and dragged her in.

He released as soon as they entered the room and walked over to his desk. "I'm not going to that blasted hospital Granger! Why are you getting your knickers in a twist over some wanker that doesn't deserve a second thought? I don't believe you!" he shouted. "I'll let you in on a little secret," leaning down to her, he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear, "I didn't lose one second of sleep over him last night nor will I tonight either."

"Draco, you can't mean to leave him like that! I know you're a decent man. Draco I mean it. We have to go to the hospital. This kind of torture is something that Voldemort or one of his underlings would do, I know that there is no way you're okay with this."

Draco grabbed her at the shoulders, his face an inch from hers, "You're wrong Granger. I am more than okay with this, I'm bloody thrilled that the son of a bitch is hurting. Maybe there's still a bit of Death Eater in me, maybe there always will be."

Hermione glared right back at him, "Draco, that's rubbish and you know it! I don't believe it and neither do you, neither does Harry, neither does Shacklebolt. You wouldn't be here, doing this job if that were true. Please, we need to get to the hospital. Now. Come on Malfoy, this is all part of the whole 'work together' side of our partnership."

He looked as if he wanted to throttle her, but after a slight hesitation he took her hand and dragged her out of the office again, down the corridor to the lift. Once they got to the atrium, they used one of the huge fireplaces to floo to the hospital.

After arriving at St. Mungos, Draco found out where they were keeping Actis and started towards his room. Hermione followed.

"I'm so happy you decided to change your mind Draco. I knew that you'd see this is the only decent thing to do. It was just a matter of allowing you to come to your…" whatever she was going to say was forgotten as he suddenly stopped walking and she slammed into his back.

He turned around, pinned her with a glower and hissed, "Shhh! Do not say one more word Granger or I'm walking out of here." His tone brooked no argument. She nodded timidly and followed him without saying a word.

Even before reaching the room, they could hear the moans of Mervin Actis echoing down the corridor. When they entered Draco tried to walk over to the bed to break the curse he'd put on the man, but the healer that had been trying to calm Actis blocked his path.

"Excuse me, but you're not authorized to be in here," he said authoritatively. "You both need to leave now. Mr. Actis is in very critical condition and in no state to receive visitors. We've been working on him all night."

Draco sneered and shoved him out of the way. Hermione rushed to the healer's side and quietly explained to him that Draco was there to break the curse that was keeping the man from healing. The look that the healer gave her indicated that he had serious doubts about Draco's ability to help the man. They both turned to look at the tall blond man bend over the bed and murmur a long and complicated incantation that neither one of them was familiar with. The sight of Draco in complete concentration, eyes closed, brow furrowed and his long slender fingers splayed and hovering over the closed wound, transfixed Hermione. She'd never imagined how affected she'd be by the sight of Draco healing someone instead of inflicting pain. She was so intent on him that she was startled when the moaning stopped.

The healer immediately went over to check if the patient was still breathing and upon finding him alive still, he began to sing Draco's praises, walking out of the room to call his colleagues. Hermione could hear the commotion in the corridors but she could not take her eyes off the man that was slowly straightening up and turning to look at her. Never had she seen him look so tired. It was an exhaustion borne not of the healing he had just performed, but of the inner battle he'd fought with himself.

He stood up straight and taking one last look at Mervin Actis, turned and walked out the door. Hermione started to walk out after him, but just as she reached the door, she heard the distinctive popping sound indicating that Draco had left. She would have followed him if only she knew where he'd gone and since the prisoner couldn't be left alone, she had to wait until someone from the ministry came to relieve her of her watch.

Hermione returned to office two hours later. She'd waited at the hospital until Harry's arrival. Once he got there they were able to get Actis set up in a high security room. Two officers from the department of law enforcement would stand guard until his removal to Azkaban. The healers assured them that they'd be able to move him in a couple of days.

Sitting at her desk, Hermione was consumed with thoughts of him. Her thoughts were whirlwinds of emotions. Never would she have thought that she'd regard Draco as being vulnerable, but the raw pain she saw in face when he fought against the monster within him was a bit unnerving. He was an enigma, her partner. He could be hard and cold and searing and unreachable, but completely attentive when she needed him to be. There were times, like last night and today at the hospital, when she'd been able to catch glimpses a man in turmoil.

During their raids she often felt as if he was unleashing all the pent up rage he worked so hard at keeping bottled up. For two weeks they'd be nearly inseparable and somewhere along the way she began to see him in a different light. They'd never spoken about what had almost happened the night she ate dinner at his home, but it was always there, a lingering memory daring them to bring it up. Her head told her to remember all the pain he'd caused, but her heart cried that even Draco Malfoy deserved a chance at atonement.

She remembered the day last week when she'd been sitting at her desk, writing the last details of a report. She'd felt his eyes on her, looking up she'd gasped at the intense look on his face. They'd locked gazes, neither willing to break the away. Eventually he'd pulled his eyes away, shook his head in obvious bewilderment and quickly left the office. When he returned a couple of hours later, he acted as if nothing had happened. For the time being his demons were, it seemed, slumbering.

It was getting late and he still hadn't returned to the office. The last rays of daylight were rapidly disappearing. She didn't even know how she knew, she just did. She knew that wherever he was, Draco was hurting. Without giving herself an opportunity to talk herself out of it, Hermione went to the closest fireplace and throwing some floo powder down, said loud and clear, "Draco Malfoy's flat."

Her arrival at his place appeared to go unnoticed. Stepping cautiously out of the fireplace, her initial thought was that she'd been wrong; he wasn't here, he'd gone somewhere else. The room was dark and cold.

Just as she began to turn around to leave, she felt his presence. There was not a specific sight or sound that alerted her to the fact that he was there. It was more like an energy that she felt. Trying to get her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she scanned the shadowy room, looking for him. She was startled to hear his voice from a few feet away.

"Granger, didn't anyone ever tell you it was impolite to floo into someone's home uninvited?" His voice was thick and raspy from not being used.

"Malfoy, didn't anyone ever tell you its impolite to ditch your partner and disappear for an entire day?"

"I put in my time. Don't tell me your missed me," he drawled.

It was too strange having a conversation with Draco in the dark. His disembodied voice was disconcerting to say the least. She walked over to the lamp on the end table and switched it on. Even though the room was bathed in a soft glow, the sudden change caused Hermione to blink as her eye became accustomed to the light. She looked at Draco; sitting slouched down with his knees spread, at one end of the couch, the top buttons of his shirt undone, sleeves rolled up, and tie hanging loosely around his neck. He held a glass loosely in his hand, a half empty bottle of brandy on the table by the lamp. His head was hanging down, hair falling down around his eyes, but those eyes, steely and hard, were glued to her.

"What are you doing here Granger?" he snarled.

The force of his gaze paralyzed her. She could no longer remember what had brought her to the dragon's den. Her senses were screaming at her to retreat, to leave now but her feet remained rooted. No sound came to her lips, small shrug of her shoulders was all she could manage.

Tearing his gaze away, he pointed his wand and started a fire in the fireplace. Without saying a word, he gestured for her to sit down. She sat next to him on the couch, not knowing what possessed to sit there instead of the seat across from him. They sat like that for some time, just gazing into the fire. Despite his relaxed position, Hermione could sense the tension contained within him. She wished she could find a way to get through to him. It was as if he'd cast a shield charm around himself that no one could breach.

The man sitting next to her was so very different than the boy she went to school with. Her eyes were inexplicably drawn to the hands holding the half empty brandy glass. She knew those hands were capable of causing destruction and of healing. As she continued her gaze, there was a surprising and unexpected sensation in the pit of her stomach. Why was it that at the moment, touching those hands seemed essential to her very existence? Could a person be jealous of a brandy glass? Where did that thought come from? She didn't know the answers to her questions but she did know that for the first time in many months she felt alive.

Looking up, her eyes collided with his. She wondered if he could hear her heart thundering in her chest. It felt as if she were in a trance or under a spell. She reached out gently placed her hand on his, her eyes never leaving his. The heat that passed between them had nothing to do with the fire burning before them. She pulled her hand away, as if scorched, but his hand quickly reclaimed it and pulled her to him, his face a breath away.

With a ghost of a whisper he asked again, "What are you doing here?"

She was unable to mask the uncertainty in her eyes. "I don't know. I just felt I had to be here," she said, unable to meet his eyes.

"Look at me," he hissed.

"Draco, I…."

He took her face between his two hands and lifted her face to meet his glare. "No! Bloody hell! Look at me. Don't you see what I am?"

He abruptly removed his hands and stood up. As he paced like a caged animal in front of her, he ran his hand through his hair. Finally, pushing his sleeve up he thrust his forearm in front of her.

"This bloody dragon covers my dark mark, but it can't conceal the darkness in my soul," he turned his back to her. "Go home Hermione. Leave me to my thoughts. I'll see you in the morning."

She walked over and stood in front of him. The top of her head just barely reached his chin. Her caramel eyes, found his stormy ones. She straightened her back and lifted her chin. The glow from the fire illuminated her honey colored tresses, almost giving her the look of the lion that had been associated with her house while at Hogwarts. With all the courage one came to expect from a Gryffindor, she placed her dainty hand on his chest and met his glare with a determined set of her shoulders. His devoured her with his gaze, his desire evident in his eyes, darkened to the color of charcoal.

"I do see you Draco, and…I don't want to go home."

Absolute silence echoed through the room as they dared each other without words.

In a heartbeat he grabbed her arms and pulled her to him. His mouth crashed down on hers, his hand tangled in her hair. His sweet, wet lips searched for the hollow at her throat, his rough tongue returned to her mouth to demand entrance. Her mouth opened to welcomed him home.

Pulling away he said, "If you're want me to stop, you need to tell me now," his husky voice cracked.

For an answer, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled his head down and took his mouth in hers again. There was no gentleness in this coming together. It was hard, hot, demanding and plundering. There was too much space between them, her body craved all of his. His body staked a claim on hers. Throwing her arms around his neck, she wrapped both legs around his waist and he lifted her as if she were weightless. From her new height advantage, she pulled his head back by his ridiculously soft hair and ravaged his mouth with hers as he dragged the palm of his hand over her round little bottom, up her side to rest on her breast. Damn, she loved his hands. Pulling away, she began to tear at his tie and the buttons of his shirt, until she'd been able to strip him of the intrusive garment. She felt absolute joy when her hands finally found the damp skin of his chest and abdomen they'd been seeking. Never one to be submissive, he set her down and began tearing at the offensive layers of fabric standing between them. Her top, his pants and boxers, her skirt, bra and panties soon joined her robes, which were lying in a heap floor. Their mouths never stopped ravishing, their hands never stopped exploring.

They tumbled onto the beautiful flokati rug in front of the fire, its softness completely enveloping her. She was drowning is this whirlpool of sensations; her mouth caught his lips as if they were a lifeline she'd perish without, savoring the taste of brandy and Draco. Their ragged breathing could be heard as he pulled away and his ravenous mouth replaced the hand that had been cupping her breasts. Like an infant needing mother's milk, he felt as if he'd been born to suckle her. His gentle suckling, licking and stroking ignited a fire in the center of her being that threatened to consume her. He thought he'd die when her hands found his hardness, with a muttered oath and one fluid motion, he'd spread her legs with his knees and settled himself between them. With a passionate look into each other's eyes, they became one, the sweet name of their lover on their lips as they reached the pinnacle.

He held her close and kissed the top of her head as she burrowed into the warmth of his body. Shortly after, Draco picked her up and carried her to his bed, lying with her underneath the down comforter. They lay on their sides facing each other. He closed his eyes as she ran her finger over the tattoos covering his upper body. She meticulously inspected the dragon with its delicately drawn scales and hypnotizing eyes, the scrolling designs that covered his upper arm and shoulder. She remembered seeing some kind of tribal band tattooed on his other arm, but the tattoo stenciled across his heart, _**Damnatio Memoriae, **_took her breath away.

She placed her hand on the words and looked at him with a new understanding of what he'd been through. Draco leaned over her, supported his head with his hand and pushed back the cover. Tracing his own fingers on the thin scar across her stomach he whispered, "Come now, my brilliant little witch, you do know what it means?"

With a sad smile she replied, "The literal translation means damnation of memory. It was a Roman tradition in which a disgraced person was forgotten."

"Precisely. The thing is that that people do not forget so easily. _**I**_ don't forget so easily. This scar, the night you got it, I died a little bit that night. Your screams, I can still hear your screams. I don't expect your forgiveness Hermione...but I do pray for it," he said as he leaned to place a gentle kiss on the scar inflicted by Bellatrix.

She lifted his head and took his lips in a kiss filled with absolution. They'd spoken in the language that lovers speak, all the while caressing each other until they'd ignited the dormant fires within and words became superfluous.

_**A/N: Draco's pushing Hermione out of the way during the battle was taken from the scene in which Dumbledore pushes Harry back as he battles Voldemort at the Ministry of Magic in the movie The Order of the Phoenix.**_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Chapter 7 – The Dragon's Lair

**Disclaimer****- ****Okay, again, I don't own Harry Potter, the characters, or anything dealing with it, it all belongs to the amazing **J.K. Rowling**. Only the plot is mine.**

**Author's Note****-**** I want to thank everyone that has taken time to read my first fanfic. Please read and review.**

As soon as she opened her eyes, she knew she was alone; the place was enveloped in silence. Draco was gone. She reached out and touched his pillow, it was still warm, he'd not been gone long. Maybe this 'alone' time was what she needed now. She did not want to feel any regrets about last night and she didn't, not really. It was a bittersweet moment in which she was finally able to move one. Until now, there had been only one man for her. He'd consumed her every thought for the past year, just as surely as Draco had consumed her body last night and now she didn't know what to feel. She thought would always love Ron, but if that were completely true, how could she explain what she'd done and why didn't she feel guilty about it? How strange all this was, to be thinking of Ron as she sat in Draco's bed, wearing nothing but his shirt and his scent.

Sitting up, she drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She knew that she should be getting home to shower, change and get to work, but the thought of facing him there was a bit daunting. It was so different from when she'd been with Ron. With Ron she'd known what to expect, where they were going… but this, this was too abstract, she didn't even know if there _was_ a 'this' or if she wanted there to be. Yes, he was attracted to her, that had been more than obvious last night, but there was a side to him that instinct told her she would never be able to reach. A fear clutched at her breast, a fear that had started growing the night before. From the moment he took her, she knew that he'd branded her, making her his in a way Ron had never done, and even if she walked away, it would never be the same. She was sure of it, felt it in her bones, her soul. He'd taken a piece of her and she wasn't sure if she could be complete without him again. The fact that she would give up a month's wages to have him in bed next to her right now only confirmed how quickly she'd become addicted to him. How had that happened? She could not have a relationship with a man who held so much of himself back. Why wasn't he here to answer her questions?

She threw the sheets off and got out of bed and she walked into the living room looking for her clothes. They were neatly folded on the couch, her robes, skirt, blouse and undergarments. She felt a small blush as she pictured him folding her things. Picking up the small pile of clothing, she apparated to her flat taking his shirt with her.

After a quick shower she put on a pair of gray pants, black peep-toe pumps, a white cotton shirt with ruffles down the front and a black fitted waistcoat. She kept her make-up simple as always and dried her hair using her wand, leaving it softly curling around her face.

When she couldn't put it off any longer, she put on her work robes and she walked into her fireplace to go to work. The Ministry of Magic was bustling when she arrived. Being late to work was not something she did very often because it made her feel as if she were running behind all day. Before going to her own office she stopped by Harry's to see if he had any news about the prisoners they'd captured. His office was locked, indicating that he wasn't in, so she went ahead to her office.

It was with no small amount of trepidation that she walked in. Draco was going over some files on his desk. He looked up as she walked in.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning. Sorry I'm late. I over slept a bit."

"I can see that," he said, handing her a stack of papers. "Why don't you go get a cup of coffee then before you start on these? They're some reports we need to fill out and hand in by the end of the day today."

"I've got my coffee," she said showing him her cup of java.

"Then I suggest you get to work on them and I'll do this other half."

With that, he returned to his task as if he didn't have a care in the world and the only thought she was capable of forming was 'damn, he smells good'. She simply stared at him for a second, gave a little mental shake of her head and walked to her desk. Unlike Draco, she was unable to concentrate and twenty minutes later she was still staring at the same line on the first report. A knock on their door gave her a reason to put it down. Before she could ask the visitor to come in, the door opened and Harry, along with Ginny, walked in.

"Hello Mione, Draco," said Harry.

Draco nodded to both of them and returned to his work.

"Harry, I went to your office looking for you this morning, but you weren't there," said Hermione coming around her desk to give both of them a kiss on the cheek.

"I was meeting my love at her office," he said winking at his wife. "She's talked me into taking her out to lunch. But it's been such a long time since we spent any time with you that we thought you might like to join us."

"I wish I could, honestly, but I came in a little late this morning and now I have all these reports to do, tomorrow's Saturday, maybe we can meet then. By the way, Ginny I love your new haircut. I wish I had the nerve to do something different with my hair"

Ginny had cut her copper colored hair into a stunning a-line bob with bangs that set off her beautiful eyes.

"Thanks Mie. See Harry? He thinks it's too short," she told Hermione. "What is it with men and long hair?"

"Gin, I love your hair long, short, in a Mohawk, any way you wear it, it looks super," he said with a grin.

"See Mione, that's why I married him, he always knows how to get out of a sticky situation," Ginny said, giving Harry a peck on the cheek. "But, listen," she continued, "We really think its time for you to start getting out more. Harry and I are having dinner at Bello's tonight and we thought you might like to join us. We haven't been there, but we've heard the food is _molto bene," _she said in a very bad Italian accent. "We may even pop over to that new club in Diagon Alley, The Dragon's Lair, for a couple of drinks and some dancing later."

"Ginny, with yours and Harry's schedules, you two don't get the chance to go out that often and I hardly think that you'd appreciate having a third wheel tag along."

"Well, the thing is, you wouldn't be a third wheel." started Harry, "We've invited Adam Unger from Arthur's office to join us."

She could feel the heat creep up her neck to her face. "Honestly Harry," Hermione said in a lowered voice "I can get my own dates if I want them."

"When, Mie?" he answered in a hushed voice as well, "It's time. He's been gone for over a year and you need to start living your life."

"Granger, just accept their invitation so we can get back to these reports. I, for one, don't want to spend the rest of my day listening to them try to talk you into going on a date," suggested Draco in a bored voice.

Hermione turned to look at him but he'd already returned to his reports.

Ginny beamed. "Thank you Malfoy, I knew you'd be a good influence on her. Come on now, Mione, you must do as your partner says and go out with us tonight. Adam's a good bloke, he works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office with Dad, and we all really like him and he wants to meet you. Plus…he's really good looking," she said with in a sly whisper.

"I heard that Ginerva," scolded Harry.

"But not as good looking as my husband," she said with a smile.

"I don't know Ginny, I was planning on going home and reading a good book."

"Forget it! You can read anytime. How often do we get to spend time with you? We'll go by your place at five to six as our reservation is for six. Come on Harry, I'm starved." She grabbed Harry by his sleeve and started to pull him towards the door.

Harry smiled and winked at her on the way out, "I'll see you tonight Mie. Draco, thanks mate."

She watched the door close with apprehension. Walking back to her desk, she silently picked up the report she'd tried to work on before and attempted to concentrate once more. There was an uncomfortable air in the office that wouldn't let her focus. Across the office he sat at his desk working on his reports, completely relaxed.

"Draco, I didn't want to accept their invitation."

Looking up from his work with an unconcerned look, he said, "Granger, you don't owe me any explanations. You're free to do as you please," he said in an offhanded way and returned to his work.

A flush quickly rose up her neck to her face. How could he brush her off like that? What a tosser!

It took a lot of effort, but she was able to finish the last of the reports before quitting time. They'd worked in silence since Harry and Ginny left, neither of them even sparing the other as much as a glance.

"If you're finished with those, I can take them to Kingsley on my way out," Hermione offered as she began to gather the reports into a file.

"No, just leave your reports here and I'll submit them with mine," He said.

"Are you sure, I can take them if you'd like," she said standing in front of his desk.

"Leave the reports here and go home. I believe you have an engagement tonight. I'll see to the reports." He said looking up at her.

"Alright…Thanks. I guess I'll see you Monday." She turned to walk away.

"Granger," he said.

"Yes?" She stopped at the door and faced him.

"Before you go out with Unger tonight, maybe you should do something about the hickey peeking out of the collar of your blouse."

She walked out and viciously slammed the door.

Hermione was still fuming, as she got ready for dinner date. He was such a prat. How could she have let herself get involved with that insensitive bugger? After showering, she stood in front of her mirror wearing only her towel. Funny how she'd missed them this morning. She'd been in such a hurry to get ready for work that she had just showered and dressed, not really examining her reflection in the mirror, but there they were, the two hickeys he'd branded her with. It was a good thing her blouse had completely covered one and mostly covered the other. Thank Merlin Harry and Ginny had not seen them. Reaching up to touch the somewhat sore spots, one on the left side of her neck the other one lower on her chest, she felt a tingle in the pit of her stomach just thinking of how they'd gotten there. Taking a deep breath, she decided to put their encounter from the previous night behind her, he obviously had.

After debating over what to wear, she decided on a pair of dark skinny jeans, with her sleeveless black cashmere mock-turtleneck top and her new black strappy t-strap sandals. She also put on a pair of small silver hoop earrings and several thin silver bangles. Her hair was pulled up in a loose bun and she applied a little more makeup than she usually wore during the day. A bit of perfume behind her ears and at the pulse point on her wrists and she was ready to go.

The Potters arrived a few minutes later, apparating into her living room. Harry was wearing a very nice pair of black khakis and a green Polo shirt; Ginny was in a lovely green baby doll dress with nude strappy sandals. The dress and her new haircut gave her a chic look.

"Hello Beautiful, are you ready to go," asked Harry with a smile, "We don't want to keep Adam waiting."

Cripes! Hermione had almost forgotten they were meeting up with Adam Unger.

Once they got to the quaint little restaurant, Ginny and Hermione followed Harry to their table where Adam was waiting for them. He stood up as they approached. Hermione had seen him at the ministry but had never spoken to him. Harry spoke the introductions.

"Hermione Granger, I'd like you to meet Adam Unger. Adam, this is our best friend, Hermione."

"Pleased to meet you Adam," she said as she shook the hand he extended.

"Nice to meet you Hermione," Adam said as he pulled out the chair next to him for her to sit down.

"Adam, I saw the stuff you and my father-in-law confiscated last night. There were some insane things in the batch," said Harry laughing.

"The enchanted hair brushes that turned muggle's hair into rubber snakes was pretty original," agreed Adam with chuckle.

Hermione quietly observed Adam. He was very tall with dark hair, green eyes and a ready smile. He seemed very much at ease with them.

He turned to her and asked, "So Hermione, I hear you also deal with some interesting artifacts."

The corners of her mouth curved upwards as she said, "Some of things I deal with are quite, unique, to say the least."

"Tell me about the most bizarre item you've ever handled."

"Let's see…it's hard to choose just one."

"Mie, how about the doorknob that you confiscated last year," asked Ginny.

"That's right Ginny. Well Adam, there was a very ornate doorknob that we found in an abandoned carriage house that could be attached to any ordinary door, transforming the door into a portal to some sort of a swirling vortex, a bit like a bottomless pit. That was somewhat interesting," she concluded on a serious note.

Adam stared at her quite dumbfounded and after a brief moment said, '"You're joking right?"

"I'm afraid not."

He sat up a little straighter in his chair and cocked his head to the side as he looked at her. "Well, I guess that's just a bit more bizarre than an enchanted hair brush."

No one said a word for several seconds, and then the whole table exploded in laughter. Ginny was right on two counts, he was very good looking and the food was delicious. They sat around and had a couple of glasses of wine before Ginny asked Hermione to go with her to the loo.

As they were touching up their makeup Ginny asked her, "What do you think? Didn't I tell you he was cute?"

"I agree that he is very nice and quite good looking Ginny, but he sort of looks like Harry."

"Stop with the excuses Mie, he's a great bloke and very interested in you. I hope you give him a chance."

Hermione merely smiled and raised her eyebrows then she turned to the mirror and re-applied some lip-gloss.

"Come on then, let's get back. I still want to see if they want to take us dancing," said Ginny.

Harry and Adam both stood as the women got to the table.

Harry left the money for their meal on the table and turned to Ginny and Hermione, "Adam and I were just talking, and we were wondering if you two lovely ladies would want to accompany two charming blokes, meaning me and Adam," he said with a grin, "to a the Dragon's Lair for a night of dancing and carousing?"

"See Ginny, and you said Harry was a stick in the mud," said Hermione, "Gentlemen we would love accompany you," she finished with an exaggerated flourish.

"Love, I would never call you a stick in the mud," laughed Ginny as she took Harry's arm and kissed his cheek.

Adam offered Hermione his arm and the two couples walked out and apparated to the entrance of the trendy new nightclub. When they arrived there was a queue to get in, but they were escorted in as soon as the doorman recognized Harry.

The interior of the nightclub was extraordinary. It was as if they had walked into a dilapidated castle complete with stone floors and a crumbling staircase that led to a faux balcony that held a very lifelike dragon, which reminded Hermione of a particular Slytherin. The bar along the far wall had four bartenders working it; the DJ and all his equipment were on an elevated platform directly below the dragon. There were no table and chairs; instead they'd furnished the lair with black u-shaped dragon skin couches surrounding small tables. Dancers, in both muggle clothes and robes, were encircled by a swirling mist and muted lighting.

They were shown to a sofa in the VIP section. Ginny and Hermione scooted to center of the couch, with Harry sitting next to Ginny and Adam taking a seat next to Hermione. A beautiful young lady dressed like a damsel in distress came and took their drink order. The men ordered beer and the ladies ordered Blue Dragons, the house specialty.

"So Hermione, what do you think of this place," asked Adam. The music was loud enough for him to have to lean over to speak directly into her ear.

"It's insane! I can't believe how many people are here. I've never really been one for the nightlife, but this is nice."

He wrapped his arm around the back of the sofa and leaned in again, "Yeah well, I suppose your evenings are pretty much taken up by fighting against the dark arts."

"That's me," she said with a smile. "No seriously, I get most evenings off, but I prefer to stay home with a good book or spend time visiting my friends. How about you? How do you like working at the ministry?"

"It's great. Ever since I was at school, I've been enthralled by anything that is muggle made. We were not permitted to study anything Muggle at Durmstrang, so I was thrilled to get the position at the ministry."

"Then landing a job with Arthur Weasley must be like a dream come true for you."

"He's the only person I know who is more interested in muggle artifacts than me. He told me he'd once had an enchanted muggle car that could fly."

Hermione's peal of laughter indicated that she remembered the adventure Harry and Ron had in the car.

"Yes, you must ask Harry about that, one day," she told him with her eyes glistening with mirth. The two of them continued talking as if they were old friends. Hermione had two more drinks and was having a better time than she'd expected.

"Hey you two," said shouted Ginny over the din of the music, "Harry and I are going to show off our moves on the dance floor."

Harry took his wife's hand and led her onto the already cramped dance floor. Hermione smiled as she saw her best friend try to dance to an upbeat song, the man who saved the world had absolutely no rhythm when it came to dancing.

"Come on, let's show them how it's done," suggested Adam as he stood and took her by the hand. Smiling, she let him steer her to the dance floor, his hand on the small of her back. They muscled their way over to where Harry and Ginny were dancing. Once they got there she turned to him and they began to dance. The four of them were laughing and dancing together for several songs, the guys trying to outdo each other with silly moves, the girls trying to act as if they didn't know them.

The music changed to a slow song and Harry drew Ginny into his arms. Adam automatically held out his arms for her and she walked into them. Normally it would have been awkward to share a slow dance with someone she'd just met, but he was so much like Harry, not just in his manner, but in his looks as well, that it seemed as if she were dancing with an old friend. She knew that she would never have the same feelings for him that she had for a certain silver-eyed serpent, but he was a lot of fun to be with.

He wrapped his arms around her waist as she put her hands on his shoulders. They danced in comfortable silence until a tapping on Adam's shoulder interrupted them.

"May I cut in?"

Hermione turned to see who had spoken. There in the middle of the dance floor, dressed completely in black, stood Draco Malfoy. The look of absolute rage on his face made Adam take a step back.

"Draco, what are you doing here?"

"I'm asking you for a dance," he deadpanned.

"Hermione, if you don't want to dance with him just tell him no," said Adam, who had apparently recovered from the shock of seeing his life flash before his eyes. He took her arm and started to turn her back around to face him again.

"Hermione, you should tell him to take his hands off you," said a very serious Draco.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" demanded Adam.

"Draco no." implored Hermione placing her hand on his shoulder. She turned back to her dance partner, "Adam…"

"Adam? Is that your name? Alright then, here's the thing, Adam, it is imperative, for your continued good health, that you remove your hands from her arms," hissed Draco.

"Mie? Anything wrong? Malfoy?" asked Harry. He and Ginny had walked over to them when they noticed the disturbance. People were beginning to stare.

"No Harry, Malfoy was just asking me for a dance," said Hermione without taking her eyes off Draco. "It's alright Adam, Harry, I'm just going to have a dance with him then I'll go back to our table."

Draco nodded to her companions, took her hand and led her to the center of the dance floor, away from their prying eyes. Turning around he pulled her against his chest, his hands slid down her arms and captured her hands. He lifted her arms to wrap them around his neck and his arms snaked around her waist bringing them even closer. She tried to stiffen her back and pull away, she was just as furious as he, but his arms were clamped around her like a vise.

"Relax, I don't bite," he murmured as he nuzzled her neck, "unless you're lying naked in my bed." The dragon, it seemed, was for the moment appeased.

Despite her anger, she felt a flash of heat course through her at his words, making her even angrier.

"And as much as I don't care for Potter, I don't think it was very nice for you to tell him a fib."

Her scowl indicated that she thought he was mental.

"You lied to him, you said you were going back to your table and that is simply not true," he informed her.

Snapping her head back and glaring at him she demanded, "Malfoy, what are you playing at? Why are you here annoying me and threatening my date?"

"Draco. I don't think we should revert to last names," he said as he pulled her close again.

"Alright then, _Draco_ what the hell are you playing at?"

This time it was he who pulled back to look at her, "I'm not playing at anything, I'm doing the only thing in the whole fucking universe that will keep me from hexing Adam Unger straight to hell…dancing with you." His voice was calm but his eyes were silver slits.

"What's your problem? What has he ever done to you? He is a perfectly nice bloke. He's very polite and attentive. "

"Hermione, I've been observing you for a while and quite honestly, I don't think you should be reminding me about his attentiveness," he growled; the beast was beginning to stir again.

"I don't understand you!" she exclaimed, "One minute you're cold and indifferent and the next minute you're, you're…well, you're like this! I didn't want to go to dinner with Adam tonight but you, Mr. Draco_ Granger Just Accept Their Invitation _Malfoy, all but forced me to go and now you show up and start growling at, and threatening a perfectly lovely gentleman just because he danced with me!"

"First of all I must ask you to please stop testing my patience because, as unreasonable as it is, and I do agree that it is unreasonable, I will not be responsible for my actions if you continue to sing his praises. And I am not threatening him because he danced with you; I am threatening him because he couldn't keep his hands off you, at your table or on the dance floor. That bugger is lucky I didn't knock the shit out of him when he put his hand on your arse as you two walked to the dance floor." His voice was calm but his look was ruthlessness

She stopped dancing and twisted out of his arms, "My arse? He did not have his hand on my arse, Draco Malfoy! He put his hand on my back, you git. You're the only one who's had his bloody hands on my arse lately!"

The music had finished and couples were staring at them as she shouted at him in the middle of the dance floor. Hermione felt her face flame with embarassement as she turned to see Harry glaring at Draco and Ginny looking at her with a raised eyebrow. After several seconds of charged silence in which Hermione wished the floor would open up and swallow her, Ginny cleared her throat and asked, "Hermione, are you ready to come back to our table?"

"Yes, I am. Draco, thank you for the dance," she said as she allowed Ginny to take her arm and lead her back to their seat.

As the music started again, she glanced back and witnessed an incensed Harry telling Draco off, pointing his finger at his face to emphasize his words. She turned back around and continued to her seat. Adam was still sitting there, waiting for them to get back. He stood as Hermione approached. Ginny turned and walked back. She knew if she didn't interfere, Harry and Malfoy would soon start dueling in the middle of the club.

"Ahem, Hermione, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause any problems for you tonight. I had no idea that you were involved with someone else or I wouldn't have …"

"No, Adam. I'm sorry. When I accepted Harry and Ginny's invitation for tonight I expected things to be a bit different than they turned out." She placed he hand on his arm and said, "It's been wonderful meeting you. You're great, I had so much fun tonight and I would love to be your friend. That's all I can offer right now."

Placing his hand over hers, he replied, "I, too, had a lot of fun tonight, but I have a lot of friends. I would love to take you away to see if we could make something more out of this, but I can see that your heart wouldn't be in it. So I think I'll say thank you and good night." He leaned over and gave a small kiss on her cheek.

Harry and Ginny were just getting back when Adam stood to leave and Draco was nowhere to be seen.

"Harry, Ginny, I believe I will call it a night and leave now. Hermione, thank you for your wonderful company, I had a very enjoyable time tonight, and if you ever change your mind, well, you know where I work," with a wink, he was gone.

Turning to the couple with her, Hermione said, "You know, I think I'll be leaving as well. I'm sorry I ruined your night out."

"Hermione, I don't know what's going on and I'll understand if you don't want to talk to us about it. Even though Harry is a bit upset, I hope you know that you can tell us anything and we will always love you," said Ginny.

"Harry, are you very angry with me?" asked Hermione.

He looked her, his best friend of eleven years, this woman who had suffered horrendously, who still carried the scars to show for it, who had suffered it all for no other reason than because she was loved by him and knew that all he wanted in the world was for her to find happiness.

"I'm not angry at all Mie," he said taking her hand in his, "I'm just confused. I want to know what the hell's going on. I mean, two weeks ago you and Draco couldn't stand to be in the same room together, and now, he's acting as if he owns you. I won't allow him to hurt you Mione."

"I know," she replied getting up, "but the thing is, I don't even know what's going on. We, Draco and I, well…it's a bit complicated at the moment and…anyway; I love you both as well. I'll see you at work." She leaned down and kissed them each and apparated back to her flat.

She definitely had a headache now and all she wanted was to get out of her clothes, take a shower and go to sleep. There were a million things going through her head. Her brain was in such a jumble that she couldn't think straight. She stepped into the shower and let the hot water evaporate the tension in her shoulders and on her back as she thought about her situation. There was nothing she hated more than not knowing something and when she told Harry that she had no idea what was going on with Draco and her, it was the truth. Her life had taken a turn last night; she just wasn't sure with direction it had gone yet. The man was so unpredictable. After thirty minutes, she was forced to get out by the lack of hot water. She towel dried her hair and put on Draco's shirt.

As she stepped into her bedroom she saw him sitting on the edge of her bed. She had known he'd come; she was surprised he'd taken this long.

Without giving her an opportunity to say a word, he was at her side taking her in his arms and pulling her against his hard body, one hand on the very arse he accused Adam of touching, the other at the base of her neck. Their eyes met, she felt her mouth go dry and she couldn't take her eyes off his lips. The rage was still evident in his eyes and his very touch was scorching her soul. All the things she wanted to say to him, all the questions she needed answered, were forgotten. His mouth captured her lips and his tongue plunged into her mouth.

Together they fell in a jumble of arms and legs into her bed. Her hands tangled in his hair, his hands taking hold of her golden mane. His mouth never left hers; it replenished and nourished her neglected spirit. It was as if he were devouring her whole. As every nerve ending in her body screamed for more, her mind told her she was going to a place she wasn't familiar with and it was terrifying. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being absorbed by his very essence.

"Wait! Draco stop," she gasped as she pushed against his chest. He collapsed on her for a second, his ragged breath on her neck, and then rolled off to sit at the edge of the bed. He ran his hand through his already tousled hair. His voice broke as he cursed, "Bloody fucking shit! I'm sorry Hermione. I don't know what I'm doing."

Hermione continued to lie on her back, her hand rested on her chest, feeling the rapid beating of her heart. After a few minutes, when her breathing had calmed, she reached over and gently pulled on his jumper trying to get him to just lie next to her, but he wouldn't let himself be moved.

"Come here, lie down," she said as she kept pulling. When he turned to look at her she was surprised to see real fear in his eyes. She put her hand on his arm and pulled him down next to her.

She was on her side, her head was propped on her elbow, and he was on his back staring at the ceiling.

"Talk to me Malfoy. What was tonight all about? Why would you show up at that nightclub and act the way you did. I can handle just about anything Draco, except mixed messages. Why can't you be honest with me?"

"I want you."

She pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side, "That bit's obvious Draco, but is that all this will ever be?"

"I don't know how to do this."

"What? Be honest? You don't know how to be honest?"

"No, this. This whole 'you and me' thing. Look, this morning I was so fucking scared I couldn't even breathe. I'd never felt like this before and I wasn't ready for it and tonight, I knew you'd be at the club, I just wanted to see you. I wasn't, however, prepared for the murderous feeling that came over me when I saw you with him." He reached for her and pulled her to him until she was lying on top of him.

With their eyes fastened on each other he said, "If you want to take this slow, I don't think I can. I'm not good at doing things half-way. I want you to be mine. Now, today and tomorrow… I honestly can't see myself ever not wanting you."

She bit on the corner of her bottom lip as she contemplated what he'd just said. He was so beautiful and he was offering, in his own twisted way, his heart. The butterflies in her stomach, dancing like dervishes, propelled her to lean down and take his mouth in a slow lingering kiss.

"I think taking things slow is a bit over-rated," she said smiling against his lips. With a guttural groan he flipped her over and began the beautiful process of making Hermione Granger his.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 – His Confession

**Chapter 8 – His Confession**

**Disclaimer****- ****Okay, again, I don't own Harry Potter, the characters, or anything dealing with it, it all belongs to the amazing **J.K. Rowling**. Only the plot is mine.**

**Author's Note****-**** I want to thank everyone that has taken time to read this story. And to those of you who have taken the time to leave me a review, I humbly thank you, you're all my Heroes. Muchos Besos to my Beta Coff, I love you girl.**

It was still dark outside.

She slowly stretched her arms over her head, a small smile lingering on her lips, her hair fanning out on both their pillows. She turned and reached over to place her hand on his chest but he wasn't there. Sitting up and wrapping the sheet around her nakedness, she looked around the room, and then walked quietly on bare feet to where he was standing by the window. The moonlight streaming in through the sheer panels bathed him with a soft glow. He was wearing only his trousers and with his back to her she was given the opportunity to admire his physique. The moonlight made his hair look like spun gold, the broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist. The lean muscles that rippled across his upper back were marked with intricate tattoos as well as marks left by her nails.

She walked around him, opened her arms and wrapped both her arms and the sheet around him, laying her head on his chest. He immediately enveloped her in an embrace but continued to look out into the darkness.

"Do you think we can do this?" he whispered.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because we have to," she replied, looking up at him with a small smile.

"I want to do this right. It's too important for me to mess up," he insisted, the thin scar on his face shining in the moonlight, his clenched jaw the only indication of his inner despair. "There's too much at stake."

She reached up and took his face in her hands. "Draco, there's two of us in this. It's up to both of us to make this or break it. The burden isn't solely yours. I know that this seems to be going a bit fast, but who knows better than a couple of Aurors how fast things can happen that can change a life. We survived a bloody war Draco, we can do this."

He scooped her up in his arms, walked to the bed, and gently laying her, he joined her. Sitting with his back against the headboard of the bed, he pulled her onto his lap. His gray eyes still looked haunted. She pressed herself into him, laying her head in the hollow at the base of his neck.

"Do you have any idea what people are going to say when they see us together? It's not going to be pleasant, Hermione," he said. He took her hand and placed it on the tattoo over his heart. "I said before; most people aren't willing to forget what I was, and I don't want you to have to put up with the shit that they will certainly throw at us."

"I've told you before, I can take care of myself, for Merlin's sake, I'm not made of glass."

"All right, so you don't give a damn about what people in general say, but what about people that love you…people you love? I'm talking about Potter. Ginny. George."

"You said it, Draco," Hermione insisted. "They love me. I know that, above all, they want me to be happy. None of them will ever turn their backs on me."

He gave a mirthless chuckle. "I envy the bond you have with your friends. I've never had one single friend that I could count on to be by my side through thick and thin. Don't get me wrong, Crabbe and Goyle were good bodyguards but they were just too scared to do anything on their own. They were my shadows, but I was never able to confide anything to them. Zabini and Nott were about as close of friends as I ever had but they were a bit more interested in their own endeavors to worry about anyone else, unless there was something in it for them, they didn't give a shit. All your friends, on the other hand, are willing to stand by you no matter what," he said with a smile.

"Let's not get carried away, Malfoy, I didn't say 'all' my friends would understand, Hagrid may still come after us to break your bony legs," she said seriously.

Draco looked as if he'd sucked on a lemon. "Joking, my love, I was just joking," she said with a giggle.

His smile froze on his lips, after several seconds, "What did you call me?" he inquired in a whisper.

She suddenly became very interested in the hem of the sheet she was wrapped in and she refused to look up and meet his questioning gaze.

"Hermione, look at me," he asked.

She bit down on her lower lip and slowly lifted her eyes to meet his.

"Did you mean it?" he asked with no small amount of fear in his voice.

Looking away again, all she could manage was a small shrug of her shoulder and an almost imperceptible nod of her head. He had to bend his head down to hear her whisper, "I never thought I would have these feelings for anyone after Ron left...then you came along and everything I thought was true is false, everything I believed false, true," she murmured, still unable to look up at him, "Have I scared you away?"

For several seconds there was a stunned silence, and then it started. It was an almost indiscernible sound, an imperceptible quiver of his body, until it built up into a loud rumble and uncontainable shaking of his shoulders. She was stunned that he was laughing…at her…laughing! She'd never heard the git laugh and he chose this moment. Bastard! Her face burning in shame, she immediately began to struggle against the arms that held her. The more she thrashed about the tighter he held on.

"You insufferable, arrogant…let me go!"

Chuckling now, Draco rolled onto his side, taking her with him. They were soon lying across the bed with her hands pinned over her head, the tangled sheet around her waist and his body pinning the rest of her down. His eyes were twinkling and hers were blazing.

"Get off, Malfoy!" she screeched.

"Calm down," he gasped between chuckles.

"NOW!"

Hoping to calm her down a bit, he brought his mouth down on hers. The kiss was sweet and slow. As he ran his tongue slowly along her bottom lip he felt her resistance ebb away. She arched her body into his, he released her hands and ran let his hands explore her breasts and outer thighs as he fell deeper into the kiss. She ran her fingers through his hair and held his head as she bit down on his bottom lip as hard as she could. His eyes flew open but when he tried to pull back she clamped down harder until they could both taste his blood.

"Why aren't you laughing now, Draco?" she ground out between her teeth as she continued to keep his lip hostage.

He'd stopped laughing but there was still a shadow of a smile in his eyes as he ordered as best he could, "or uck's sake, er'ione, let go. Let nee ex-ain."

With a glare and one last tug, she released his lip and attempted to buck him off her again. "Damn woman! Settle down. Let me explain," he muttered as he gingerly touched his battered mouth.

"I get it, Draco, I get to be a stupid twit for your entertainment, now get off me," she said with a crack in her voice.

Her distress erased all laughter from Draco's face. He rolled off her, keeping her pinned with his leg and arm as he propped himself on his elbow. Reaching over he gently turned her face to him. He used the pad of his thumb to wipe away the tears that she'd fought so hard to hold back.

"Last night, when I saw that idiot Unger whispering in your ear, saw you laughing at whatever smart thing he was saying, when I saw you walk into his arms for a dance, I thought to myself 'Draco, you really fucked up this time.' I thought that I had lost all hope of ever holding you again. I'd been biding my time for so long and then I just let you slip from between my fingers."

"A long time, Draco? I'm not an idiot - you've only been back a couple of weeks. Two weeks doesn't exactly come under the heading of 'a long time'."

He rolled onto his back, lying shoulder to shoulder with her and was silent for several long minutes. The familiar haunted look was back in his eyes when he turned to face her.

He sat up on the edge of the bed, and looked at her seriously. "Things aren't always what they seem," he said quietly, and Hermione was shocked at how solemn he sounded. "People aren't always who they pretend to be. For, well, really the past two years, there was never a moment when you were far from my thoughts. For better of for worse, there you've been."

She gave him a look of complete bewilderment.

"I suppose I'd better start at the beginning." Sitting up beside him, the sheet still clutched around her, she merely closed her eyes and nodded. Draco took a deep breath and began to tell her his amazing story.

There's not one defining moment that I can say 'aha, that's when I first noticed her', it seems as if I have always felt something for you. Yes, even when I was acting a git and you were an annoying know-it-all. When did I fall in love with you? I feel like I've always loved you, but in reality, I know it was when I witnessed your bravery in the face of the torture Bellatrix was inflicting. You were spectacular. Up to that point I'd been scared…scared for my father, my mother and scared for myself, but as I saw you lose consciousness, I was terrified. Everything was happening so fast and I was in the middle of it without my fucking wand… I never believed in God until I saw Dobby appear and take you away to safety.

There so much shit going on at the manor. A resident evil had moved into our home and was taking delight in torturing everyone around. There was no escaping his wrath. Witnessing my parent's constant fear and humiliations and not knowing if you were dead or alive, I nearly went mad. When I saw you in the Room of Requirement, the night of the battle, it seemed as if I exhaled for the first time since you disappeared from the sitting room at the manor.

After the battle while everyone was sitting in the Great Hall, I looked over at you as you sat with your head on his shoulder, his arm around your waist. I wanted to rip his heart out, but I had an idea that you'd probably frown on that, and I also knew that you'd never be mine. When Slughorn came to me with the idea for me to go away to the academy, I jumped at it so I wouldn't have to chance running into you and him.

The thing is that I couldn't stay away. Three months into my training I came home on the pretext that I need to pick up supplies at Diagon Alley. I only stayed for weekend, but it was long enough for me to catch a glimpse of you with him at The Testy Witch. Your body language, the way you two were with each other, it was torture for me, so I left. When I got home that night my father was waiting up for me. Apparently he and my mother were worried that there was something going on with me that I wasn't telling them about. After a downing a bottle of father's finest brandy, I told him about my feeling for you. Even though my parents had always indulged me in whatever I wanted, I was not expecting him to be sympathetic to my plight, but he was. We talked long into the night; he asked my forgiveness for how badly he'd bungled up my childhood and promised to keep me informed on anything that pertained to you. What? Don't look at me like that… I know it's creepy, but I was fucking desperate.

A few weeks after I returned to school my father sent me an owl with the news that you had moved in with Weasel. I remember thinking 'of course she did, you always knew they'd be together', but it didn't make it any easier to bear. So I poured everything into my training. I worked my arse off every day and collapsed with exhaustion at night. I tried to forget you by shagging every slag I could get my hands on.

After graduation I left the academy and went straight to Bulgaria on my first assignment for the ministry. I was gone for six months before I was able was able to come home, but when I did I found out that he'd left you. I was conflicted, I wanted to find the stupid bastard and kill him for hurting you but I also want to send him an effin' thank you card. I didn't know what to feel, so I searched out Zabini and Nott, we went out and got pissing drunk. That's the night I got my dragon tattoo. The next morning I woke up in a dirty room in Knockturn Alley with this tattoo and a strange brunette in bed with me. Without waking her, I Apparated back to the manor, showered and left for Bulgaria. I guess by now we both know what a coward I am…I was too scared to do anything about my feelings for you, so I left. I didn't even say goodbye to my parents.

I'd just finished up a dirty little deal that consisted of rounding up some nasty vampires when I got an owl from Kingsley asking me to return for my new assignment. At the time, I believed it was a bit out of the ordinary, as I'd always received my assignment by owl, but I thought I would be sent back out. Little did I know that I would be assigned as your new partner. You were still paired with Dean, it was a couple of weeks before you two captured Angis, but Harry was already concerned about your ability to work with Thomas. Initially, when Harry and Kingsley told me, I argued that it was a bad idea, that you would never agree, but Harry was confident that this was a good pairing, and Kingsley backed him up on it.

To be absolutely honest, I didn't argue all that hard. In the back of my mind I thought that maybe I was getting my chance, but then, well…you know what happened on our first meeting. Still, you came to me with the intent of trying to make our partnership work, and I thanked God for that small gift, promising Him that I would be content with only that, as long as I could be by your side. But I have to say that seeing you in the kind of danger our job entails, I can almost pity the Weasel boy, it's fucking scary. I honestly wanted to kill Actis, and I certainly didn't want to perform the counter curse.

When I left the hospital, I went home to try to clear my head and to attempt to make sense of my life, then…well it seemed as if my prayers were answered. You came to me and made me whole, for the first time in my sorry life I felt complete.

Then the morning after all my dreams came true… I panicked. I didn't know what to say to you to make you want to stay in my arms. I left you sleeping in my bed because I knew that I wasn't good enough for you. You deserved someone who didn't have this Mark on his arm, and then, at the office, I pretended that it didn't matter to me what you did.

The only problem is that I still am the selfish son-of-a-bitch I've always been. That brings me back to the moment I saw you step into someone else's arms to dance tonight. Fuck Hermione, I wanted to use all three Unforgivables on him.

The first rays of daylight were just beginning to show through the sheer panels. Turning to the quiet witch sitting beside him, he took her hands in his and said, "You're not a twit, you're my redemption. You called me your love and I just couldn't contain my happiness. Look at me. I wasn't laughing at you. Please believe me."

She silently scooted back and lay down on her side again. Draco mimicked her and lay beside her. Gentle fingers traced his lips, pausing on his bruised bottom lip. Placing her hand on his chest, she pushed him onto his back and leaned over him. She began to rain feather like kisses to the corners of his mouth, his eyes, along the scar on his cheek, a hand in his hair the other caressing his face. He lay with his eyes closed as she let her lips and hands tell him how much his confession meant to her. He would have gladly died a happy man at that moment.

His arms held her close as he opened his eyes and looked into her tear-filled ones. In a smooth shift, he flipped her onto her back and looked down on her. Taking the pad from his thumb, he tenderly wiped her tears.

He bent and nuzzled against her neck, whispering, "I love you Hermione, I have for a long time. So tell me…why the tears?"

"I don't know…it's just that is seems so unfair that you had to go through everything you've been through, or that I've had to go through what I had to go through. All the pain, anger, and hatred we've lived."

"Don't you think I'd do it all over again if it meant I'd be here with you right now? I would. I'd do it over ten times, a hundred, whatever it took."

"I know you would."

"So, will you have me? Will you be mine?" he asked as he rained kisses down her throat and along the base of her neck.

"I think you already know the answer to that, but yes, I'll be yours. Will you be mine Draco? Can you promise me that there won't be any more shagging of slags?" Her breathing was a bit ragged but she managed to get her question asked.

"I've been yours for longer than you even know, and I give you my word that there will never be anyone else for me but you," he said, his mouth wreaking havoc on her left breast and his hand was working its way down her flat stomach towards the soft curls between her legs.

"Draco - the Bat Bogey hex I hit you with in our fifth year is nothing compared to what would await you if I ever find out that you've slipped," she warned with a darkening of her eyes. His mouth abandoned her breast, his hand froze in its tracks, his eyes met hers for a heartbeat and then he gathered her in his arms as the room was filled with his great booming laughter.

Sunday morning Hermione and Draco were sitting at her small kitchen table eating breakfast. Their hair was still damp from the morning shower they'd shared. He was barefoot, wearing a pair of jeans with the top button undone, she was wearing her white camisole and boxer pajamas set, her unruly hair was pulled into a loose ponytail.

"So, when did the illustrious Draco Malfoy learn to make an omelet?" she said as her foot found its way under the hem of his trouser leg. "Because this is actually edible."

He reached over and pulled to him, sitting her on his lap he pressed his mouth the area right below her ear. Her arms went around his neck on their own volition.

"You'd be amazed at all the things I know how to do, and your omelet isn't the only thing I see that is edible," he said with a smirk as he nipped at her ear lobe.

A loud pop interrupted her response and they both turned to look at a very irate George Weasley. The tall redhead stood in the middle of the kitchen where he'd Apparated and glared at the two people occupying one chair.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" He yelled. "Two days, two bloody days without word from you. Would it have killed you to check in at least once, let me know you were all right? The last time anyone saw or heard from you was the night you had a fight with this git in the middle of the Dragon's Lair's dance floor!"

Turning his attention to Draco he said, "Do you mind getting your fucking hand off her breast and getting some clothes on?"

Hermione could feel the muscles on Draco's shoulder's begin to bunch up as he held her tighter. "Fuck you Weasley."

"No, fuck you, ferret! Do you think I give a shit that you've come back here as some kind of super fucking hero? You don't intimidate me, you're still the same little tosser you were in school."

"George, please, you're going to have to calm down. Draco, can I have a few minutes with George?" Hermione tried to get loose from his hold but he wouldn't allow it.

"No, Hermione," he said without taking his eyes off George.

"Draco," she hissed.

"Do you honestly believe I will leave you alone with an angry wizard when you don't even have your wand near you?"

George began to sputter, his face growing redder by the second. "You're fucking mental if you think I'd ever hurt her, Malfoy! You've got a lot of nerve you slimy arsehole. Here, hold my wand while I beat the shit out of this wanker."

"You can try," was the soft, dangerous reply by Draco.

"Stop! Both of you just shut up!" Her screech was a bit frightening.

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, attempting to calm herself so she wouldn't throttle both of them, with or without a wand. She pulled herself away from Draco, and turned to him with a look that told him in no uncertain terms that he'd better listen to what she was about to say.

"You," she said pointing her finger at him, "go wait for me in my room. Please Malfoy."

"Yeah, Malfoy. Get your arse out of here."

"George, if you don't want me to tell Angelina about the time you and Alicia Spinnet…"

"All right, I get it!"

She turned back to Draco. "Please, just give us some time alone."

He started to walk away, but turned back, took her by the arm and pressed his lips to hers in a slow kiss. With a last look back at George, he walked to her bedroom. Hermione turned just in time to see George flipping him off.

"What?" he asked in response to her glower.

"George, what's gotten into you?"

"Malfoy? You can't be serious," he said. "Look, I know you've been through a tough patch since Ron left, and I know you've been lonely, but let's be reasonable."

"You pop in here ranting and raving, and you're telling me to be reasonable?"

"What was I supposed to do? Nobody's heard from you since you went out on Friday. I haven't heard from you since Wednesday morning."

"I understand that you were concerned, but honestly, I would expect this shit from Ron. You've never been a hothead, that's one of the things I love about you."

"Give me a break. I was caught a bit by surprise by the sight of my best friend snuggled up to a half-dressed Slytherin, while wearing nothing but skimpy pajamas and hickeys on her neck! I mean… Ginny filled me in on what happened at the club, and she seemed pretty sure you were here with him, but I wouldn't let myself believe it."

"Why, why is so hard for you to believe I'm ready to move on? Isn't that what you've been pushing for me to do for the last six months? 'Forget about him Hermione, time to move on Hermione, you need to start thinking about yourself, Hermione'. Does any of that sound familiar?"

"Yes, I wanted you to start going out, but I didn't want you to elope with the first pureblood git that came along. Honestly, what do you think Ron's going to say when he hears about this? He has to come back one day…and what do you think he's going to think about this?"

Hermione stiffened her back and raised her head. "First of all George Weasley, we didn't elope and you know it. Secondly, I'm pretty sure I love that 'git', and lastly, I don't give a rat's fart what Ron thinks. He gave up the right to have any say in what I do the night he left me."

"What did you say? Did you say you love him? Listen to me. You can't love Malfoy. I don't know what he's done to you, but I know you can't love him. Maybe it's some kind of love potion or…"

"George, don't be ridiculous," she snapped.

She instantly regretted being short with him when she saw his crestfallen expression.

Hermione walked over to him and put her arms around his waist. "I'm sorry," she said, looking up at him. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I know this is hard for you, but I'm counting on our friendship to get us through this. Please say that you'll try to understand and that you're willing to attempt to be happy for me."

"Shit woman. You ask a lot of me," he said with a resigned look.

"I know that. But I also know that you love me and there's nothing that I can ask of you that you won't do."

"You are a bit of a brat, aren't you?" A small smile was attempting to form.

"I love you too," she said as she went up on tiptoes to give him a kiss.

"This isn't going to be easy you know. I don't like him Hermione, but I'm willing to stand back and see what happens. All I really care about is your happiness. Oh, and I'm sorry about the whole 'Ron' thing, he doesn't deserve you either."

"That's what I told Draco. I told him that my happiness is all my friends really care about. He's changed George, like all of us, the war changed him," she said in a soft voice. "Don't look at me like that, he has. I know that you can't see him the way I do, but trust me on this. I loved Ron for as long as I can remember, but this is different. What I had with Ron comfortable, it was warm and secure. But the feelings have I now are consuming, there's a passion I've never experienced. I refuse to feel guilty about it. I'm not the one who left."

"Well, look, the whole 'passion' part was too much information," he said, sounding revolted. "And I wish I wasn't standing here looking at the evidence of said passion," he grimaced as he pointed at the love bites on her neck. "But as for the rest, there is no reason for you to feel guilty Hermione. You've got every right to be happy. Again, I don't like him. Full stop. I most likely will never like him and I positively will never believe he's good enough for you, but like I said, I'll try to be objective when it comes to, to… whatever you want to call this, and I'm pretty sure Harry and Ginny have already figured out what's going on as well. The fact that Harry hasn't hexed Malfoy's bits off is a good indication that they're trying as well, but I'm telling right now," he added with a sneer right before disapparating, "Hagrid is still a threat."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 – Questions, Answers and New Friends**

**Disclaimer**-My name is not JK Rowling therefore I cannot take credit for anything Harry Potter-only the plot is mine.

**Author's Note**- I am sorry for the big gap between updates but real life gets in the way sometimes. A big thank you to my beta **Coff **and to all you who have read and left reviews.

To say that they had been able to assimilate into each other's lives without any problems would be a lie. Draco didn't care what her friends thought about their relationship but he was inclined to get upset if anyone tried to bully Hermione and that caused tension between him and Harry. On their first day back at work Harry was waiting for them in their office. He told her in no uncertain terms that he would not sit by and let her do something stupid with life and even threatened to rearrange some of the auror teams and give her a new partner. Draco threatened to rearrange Harry's face. There were words exchanged, things like '_for her own good'_, '_you're not going to put her in any more danger_', '_she's my best friend'_, '_**she's mine**_'. Fortunately their shouts alerted Dean and Seamus who'd rushed in and separated the two of them before any real harm could be done.

In the end, Hermione had pled with Harry to be as understanding and open-mined as he'd asked her to be when he'd first assigned them to be partners. Ginny had helped to convince him to back off and give them a chance. He wasn't happy about it but he agreed only after warning that if it interfered with their work he would separate them.

George was still somewhat stilted when he was around Draco, but they'd been able to be in the same room on a couple of occasions without wanting to beat each other senseless. The rest of the Weasley family, prodded by Arthur, had agreed to reserve judgment until they saw how things panned out.

Molly had visited her at the office about a month after she'd been told about her new relationship. Hermione had been getting ready to meet Draco for lunch when Molly knocked and let herself in. She'd been surprised to see the woman who'd been like a mother to her standing there with an uncertain look in her eyes.

"Molly! Goodness, come in. What a surprise." Hermione was truly happy to see her.

"Hello dear, I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Molly said as she walked over to give Hermione a kiss on the cheek.

"No, nonsense, I've just finished up here. Have a seat,"

"I was just visiting with Arthur and decided to stop by and see you. It's been too long since you came to visit us," she said with a hint of reproach.

"Molly, I know. Please forgive me. My life has been a bit chaotic lately. I hope you don't think I've been avoiding you."

"Hermione, I would understand if you were, but I was hoping to be able to have a few words with you. Arthur would be displeased if he knew I'd come here but I have to have my say." She looked pointedly at her.

"Your opinion and advice has always been important to me Molly and it still is, but I have to make one thing clear before you continue. My new relationship is my own affair, it is not something that anyone besides Draco and I have a say in."

"Hermione, I realize that you've been more than understanding and patient when it comes to Ron, but he just needs a little more time to get himself together dear. I'm sure that when he comes to his senses he'll be back and it would be a shame if you'd done something that would upset him…"

Taking Molly's hand in hers she said, "Wait, stop. I know how hard this is for you to understand. Ron and I love each other. We always will but we will never be a couple again. Ever. Our relationship was not healthy and Ron was strong enough to admit it and to do something about it."

"I don't understand. How can you say that you love him and still want to be with that other person."

"Ron is my past Molly, Draco is my future. I want you to be a part of my future as well, to accept me as I am, but you'll have to accept him as well."

"I thought that you'd be my daughter, that I would rock your little redheaded babies," she said wistfully. "Are you happy Hermione?"

"I _am_ very happy and I want you to know that you will always be like my second mother." Hermione embraced her as Molly cried tears of disappointment and resignation.

Hermione took him home to meet her parents shortly after her talk with Molly.

Their judgment of Draco was not clouded by the history that her friends had with him. To them, he was a soft-spoken, handsome, polite young man who was evidently very taken with their daughter. They'd did not miss the looks that passed between the young couple, the way her eyes lit up when he entered the room, or the way his eyes softened when she smiled at him. Hermione's hand rested on his thigh throughout dinner, absently rubbing small circles on his leg with her fingers.

Her parents were the only two who seemed genuinely happy for her. They'd been to visit her often during the time when Ron left, they'd even suggested that she move back home with them, so great was their concern for her at the time, but she'd been adamant about remaining where was. Because they didn't live within the magical community, they had little understanding of what Hermione's job entailed therefore they could neither understand nor condone the reasons for Ron's departure. In their eyes he was just the git who'd broken their little girl's heart. They each gave silent thanks for the happiness Draco seemed to bring their daughter.

After dinner with her parents, they'd gone to his flat. Her gentle touches during dinner had tested his self control to the limit and as soon as they got to the bedroom he took her in his arms and his mouth found hers. Expertly trained hands removed her blouse and skirt, leaving her wrapped in his arms with only her lacy bra and panties.

It had been more than a month since they'd gotten together but he still acted if he were afraid that it was not real. He couldn't seem to wrap his brain around the fact that he was free to hold, kiss her, taste her, after all the time he'd prayed for this, it was still difficult to believe. His mouth moved with the specific intent of marking her as his, sucking on the sensitive spot at the base of her neck.

"So fucking beautiful, so hot." he hissed against her skin. His words, breath hot and moist, drove her crazy. She needed to touch him. Her small hands found their way under his shirt to the skin on his back and began to stroke up and down, gently raking her nails against his flesh. She could feel his need pressed against her stomach, the knowledge that she was the reason for his state aroused her more than she would have thought.

She began to frantically pull at the buttons of his trousers. "Easy baby, we've got all night," he murmured, intensifying her need even more.

"I want to touch you," she breathed as she pulled his shirt over his head as he stepped out of his trousers. His hands relieved her of her bra as he backed her into the bed. He hooked a finger under the waist of her panties and began to slowly peel them off as her hand found it way under his boxers to his hardness. His body jerked and he drew a shaky breath as her hand wrapped around him and began to stroke him.

In an instant he had pinned both her hands over her head. His mouth crashed against hers, his tongue making love to her mouth as his hands traveled to the soft curls between her legs. With a soft moan she gently bit down on his bottom lip and dug her nails into his shoulders, but she was not in the mood to be submissive, just as he was to enter her, she twisted with all her strength and pushed him down onto the silk bed covering. With a sneer to match any he'd ever given her, she whispered, "I said, _I_ want to touch you." And touch him she did, first with her hands then with her lips, and finally, straddling him she touched him with her body.

The lioness tamed the dragon.

The following week she realized that it was not only her friends and family that had to be dealt with, they still had to attempt to introduce her to his universe, a world filled with Purebloods and everything they believed in.

Draco's relationship with Blaise was tested when they'd met for dinner with him, Theo and two beautiful witches they'd brought with them. It wasn't as if they were blatantly rude, but both of his former Slytherin friends were obviously uncomfortable with Hermione's presence. They covered their discomfort by simply attempting to ignore her. They engaged their dates with tales of their antics while growing up, their time at Hogwarts, and the things they'd done since they'd left school. The stories mainly consisted of rule breaking and romantic trysts. The only time they ever mentioned Hermione was when explained how Draco had tormented her and her two best friends during their school days.

The more they talked the angrier Draco got. Blaise had obviously missed the setting of Draco's jaw and the narrowing of his eyes because he decided to mention the fact that although he'd just introduced her as Hermione Granger to them, in the past his favorite name for her had been Mudblood. Hermione's immediate intake of breath was the only sound to be heard for several seconds, followed by the slamming of Draco's palm on the table.

"You had to fucking go there, didn't you? It wasn't enough for you to bring up every other dumb ass shit I did in the past, no… you had to fucking go _there!_"

"Calm down mate, it's all in good fun, Hermione knows…"

"Don't say her name, you worthless piece of shit!" he hissed knocking his chair over as he stood. Looking at Blaise then at Theo he warned, "Both of you better get remember who won the war and whose side you're families fought for. I don't give a shit if you want to accept us, but I can make your lives a living hell if you ever disrespect her again. Arrogant pricks." He took her hand and started to lead her out of the restaurant.

"Hold on mate," called Theo stand up. Hermione stopped walking causing Draco to stop and glare at Theo.

He walked over and stood in front of the first witch to ever been able to bring a smile to his friend's eyes, the witch who had help end the war, the witch they'd just insulted and begged her forgiveness. "Hermione, I apologize for our behavior, there is no excuse for it, regardless of what you understandably believe, we have been taught better. We cannot even blame our actions on old prejudices because as an auror, you know that neither Blaise nor I ever supported Voldemort or his beliefs. That leaves only one explanation; we're a couple of ignorant prats. Please forgive us." Risking a look at Draco he added, "You too mate, we're sorry."

Hermione could see that he was truly trying to be sincere and looking over at Blaise she saw that he was wearing a sheepish grin on his face. Biting on her bottom lip, she turned to look at Draco with a questioning look. His face could have been carved from stone, his anger had obviously not abated. Giving him a small smile she turned pulled on his arm forcing him to lean down to whisper in his ear.

"Draco lets not let this ruin our evening. Look at them, they're like two mischievous little boys and they're sorry. We can leave if you still want to, but let's not leave with bad feelings. Let it go."

By the frown on his face, she did not think he was going to agree, but he straightened up and gave each of his friends a curt nod, that was as good as they were going to get from him. Turning on his heel, he led Hermione out of the abnormally silent restaurant and disapparated them to his place.

Two weeks later, a still upset Draco was attempting to work out a way to have Hermione and his parents meet, but after the fiasco with Blaise and Theo, he was leery of placing her in situations where she would be made to feel uncomfortable. He had decided that they would meet them for lunch, away from the Manor; there were too many painful memories there for her. He was also feeling a bit apprehensive about what he was about to do. For now though, he smiled as he watched her struggle to wake from her slumber.

Languidly stretching her arms above her head, a satisfied smile playing across her lips, Hermione fairly purred as the memories of the previous night played in her mind. It was a slideshow, snapshots of demanding lips, unrelenting hands, obsidian eyes, and steel bands of muscles rippling beneath her touch. His taste lingered on her lips, the aroma of their lovemaking enveloped her like satin sheets, her skin still burned from his touches, their cries of ecstasy echoed in her mind.

"My lioness finally awakens although…she more closely resembles the cat that swallowed the canary," said a husky voice from close by.

Draco sat facing her from the other end of the bed, his legs crossed, and his elbows on his knees. Looking at him through eyes still heavy from sleep, Hermione was quite certain she'd never seen anything as sexy as Draco Malfoy clad only in his silk boxers. She loved his body; the scars, the one on his cheek and the one very similar to her own on his stomach, which marred his otherwise perfect skin, the tattoos that adorned him, his piercing mercury eyes, and those hands…those amazing hands.

With one last stretch, she sat up and inched her way over until she was leaning with her back against him. "Good morning. What were you doing all the way over here?"

Wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling on her shoulder he answered, "I was enjoying the view. Did you know that you smile in your sleep?"

"Yes, well…it was you, who most likely put the smile on my face," she said as she closed her eyes and relaxed her head against him.

He continued to rain small kisses on her neck, shoulder and face as his hands cupped her breasts, it sill amazed him how they fit perfectly in his hands, as if they were made for him to hold and caress. Pushing her down onto the bed, he leaned over her and laid his body on top of hers holding himself up on his elbows.

"Do you want to put a smile on my face?"

"I thought we had to meet with your parents at noon Draco? We'll never make it on time if I'm forced to remain in this bed. Plus, I'm nervous enough about the whole meeting without having to worry about being late," she said with smile.

"Ms. Granger, please get you dirty mind out of the gutter. I wasn't talking about sex, although…no! I must not digress."

"No sex? Okay…so how am I supposed to make you smile? In case you haven't noticed, I'm not really a funny person and I cannot tell a joke to save my life. Maybe we should reconsider going back to sex, I'm pretty sure I can make you smile." She lifted her head off the bed to gently nibble on his collar bone.

With a groan, he rolled off her and they both lay on the bed gazing at the ceiling.

"Draco? Is something the matter?" She turned a questioning face towards him.

He remained silent.

"What's going on in that brain of yours Malfoy?"

Turning to face her, he whispered, "I love you Hermione. I've loved you for such a long time."

He abruptly rolled to the edge of the bed and reached for something under the mattress then rolled back to face her.

"I went to my parent's house yesterday. I wanted to confirm the details for today's lunch and to retrieve an item I needed from the family safe. I just want you to know that they're just as eager to meet you as you are nervous to meet them."

She had her hand on his arm as he spoke, absently tracing the dragon on his arm. "So if you're certain everything will be all right, why are you so nervous?"

"It's a bit nerve racking to realize that my happiness is in such small hands. I can't undo the past Hermione all I can ask is for you to give me the opportunity to make it up to you for the rest of our lives."

He opened his hand on lying in his palm was the most exquisite platinum diamond and emerald ring she'd ever seen. Hermione emitted a soft gasp as she recognized the implication.

"This is how you can put a smile on my face, say you'll accept my ring, my grandmother's ring, and say you'll marry me."

His heart was hammering in his chest as he waited for her to say something. For several long moments she continued to look at him as if he'd grown a second head. It seemed an eternity before she grabbed his face and smashed her lips into his.

There were tears in her eyes when she finally pulled back and simply said, "Yes."

A deep shaky sigh brought her back. She'd not even noticed the hot tears coursing down her face and onto the front of her top. She gently placed the long-cooled cup of tea on the table and wrapped her arms protectively around her stomach, an attempt to keep the pain at bay. Why did she do this to herself? She knew better than to embark on a journey down memory lane, for once she started, the memories would loiter in the forefront of her mind for weeks.

Her self-imposed isolation was what she'd needed to begin to heal, but it also made it infinitely more difficult to deal her pain because she did not have anyone to turn to on days like today, days when she had to question whether she was any closer to finding peace, days when it seemed as if it had been mere moments since she'd lost him. Damn. She missed him so very much. Her tears continued to fall unhindered; she didn't bother to wipe them away. A part of her knew that she would spend her entire weekend mourning, but the tears would help purge some of the pain.

The sun was setting now and the chilly Pacific Ocean mist could not be ignored so she picked up her paperwork, teacup, and her sandals and walked back down the stone path to her cozy little house. The small cottage seemed to envelope her in a warm embrace as she walked in through the French doors. She effortlessly started a fire in the fireplace before going to the bathroom to start her bath.

She soaked in the warm soapy water, letting it drain all the tension from her body. Resting her head on the rim of her claw footed tub, she closed her eyes and tried to get a hold of her emotions. She'd practiced some deep-breathing exercises to help control the bouts of anxiety she periodically suffered from since the day she'd woken up in St. Mungo's, exercises that helped block out the horrific images she was plagued with.

Stepping out of the tub, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and felt the familiar ache in her chest. It never failed to take her breath away. She'd never understand the crazy impulse that made her get the dragon tattoo, but there he was. She couldn't believe that Ginny had allowed her, as drunk as she'd been, to go through with it. This was not a cute little cartoon dragon that might grace the body of one of the surfer girls she saw on the beach. The fierce silver-eyed Hungarian Horntail situated on the inside swell of her left breast was perched on a shield that bore the Slytherin crest. With teeth bared and talons drawn, he viciously guarded the heart he'd taken for his own. He was a constant reminder that her heart was not her own anymore.

After pulling on a fresh pair of sweats, a simple white tee and thick cotton socks, she swept wet hair into a loose ponytail. All her reminiscing left her exhausted and with the beginning of a headache. Walking into her small kitchen, she opened a tin of cat food for Crookshanks who was sitting expectantly on the kitchen counter. She'd just decided to make a sandwich for herself when she heard a soft knock at her front door.

Even after living in this quiet community for as long as she had, she could not allow herself to let her guard down, the Auror in her, although dormant for the most part, was ever vigilant. She held her wand firmly in her hand as she approached the door, as she was not in the habit of getting many social calls. She was surprised to see Michelle, her landscaper, standing at her doorstep when she looked through the peephole. Hermione had completely forgotten that she'd asked her to stop by in order for her to give her the last payment for the job they'd done in her garden.

"Michelle. Thanks for coming by." she said as she opened the door.

"Hello Hermione. I hope I'm not interrupting you. I know I said I'd be by earlier, but when I picked Russell up at daycare his teacher stopped me to talk about some issues with him at school and then I had to take him to Shane so they could catch some waves."

"No, don't be silly. Come in." She was reminded of Michelle's four year old son.

Russell was beautiful child with big blue eyes. His blond hair was sun bleached to an almost white, his skin was caramel colored, and both of these could be attributed to the amount of time the young boy spent with his father on a surf board.

Michelle was a dynamic woman who'd taken on the job of transforming the drab piece of ground in the rear of Hermione's house into a Garden of Eden. Although the job was done by her and her husband, she was the driving force behind the team. She ran her business much like she did her family, with an iron hand. It took a lot of strength to keep Shane and Russell behaving. What made it more amazing was the fact that her husband was a wizard and she a muggle.

Not much got by her, she quickly noticed that Hermione's had been crying. Their relationship, up to this point was basically a professional one, but she couldn't help thinking that the quiet witch needed a friend.

"Hermione, is everything all right?" She asked.

"What? Yes, everything's fine. Here, let me get your money," she said as she nervously walked to get her pocketbook.

"I know you're far from home and friends. I can only imagine how difficult that is for you, but if there's anything I can do, please let me, even if it's just lending a shoulder for you to lean on," she said as Hermione walked away.

Michelle's words caused her to stop. It had been such a long time since she'd had a friend to confide in, a friend to hold her and tell her she would be okay. The urge to allow her self-restraint drop was strong, but the fear that she would be unable to pick up the pieces again held her tongue.

With a small sigh and a sad smile, she turned to face Michelle.

"Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me. I promise I'll remember your offer."

"Anytime, that's what friends are for."

Both women smiled at each other as they realized that they had, in fact, just made a new friend. And just like that, in that fraction of a second, they were completely at ease with one another.

"I was just going to make me a sandwich. Can I make you one?"

"Sure, that sounds good. I want to talk to you about something that maybe you can help me with," answered Michelle.

"Sure, come into the kitchen. We can talk as I make the sandwiches."

Michelle sat at the table as Hermione prepared the food. "So, what's going on? What did you want to ask me?"

"Well, Shane and I have noticed that Russell has been showing signs that he is coming into his magical abilities and that was confirmed by his teacher today. It seems that he accidentally turned the class hamster pink today. I have no idea how to deal with a young wizard and I was wondering if you could give me an idea of what to expect, since you're muggle born, I assume that you're magical abilities were difficult for your parents to deal with at the beginning."

Smiling at the young mother in front of her, she said, "Well, I don't remember much, but my mother is quite fond of telling a similar story of me causing a book to sprout wings. At least you knew that there was a big possibility that Russell would be a wizard, my poor parents were completely gobsmacked. Thankfully, they received a visit from Albus Dumbledore that very day."

"I can see how they would have been blown away," said Michelle with a giggle. "I just don't know what to expect or how to deal with it if it begins to get out of control."

"Honestly, it's not that bad, especially since we live in such an open-minded community. There will inevitably be uncontrolled incidents, but for the most part, they will be rare. I'm sure you'll be okay. Russell seems like a smart little boy, so I would imagine that he will have very little trouble keeping his powers under control. I do think you need to talk with him and help him understand what is happening because in reality, it is just as confusing to him as it is to you, if not more so."

"You're right. Shane and I will talk with him tonight. Hey, Shane, Russell and I are having a picnic at the beach tomorrow. Would you like to join us?"

Her first impulse was to refuse, but one look at her new friend told her that she'd not take no for an answer.

"Okay, sure. As long as you don't think I'll get on one of those death boards."

"They're surf boards, and no, you don't have to get on one. I promise. We'll just relax and work on our tans."

After she said goodbye to Michelle, Hermione was left to her thoughts again. She smiled as the thought about Russell coming into his magical powers and the amazement he must be experiencing. A sharp pain knifed through her heart. Walking to the large mirror in the corner of her bedroom, she lifted her tee and let her gaze wander lower, to the jagged scar that ran the width of her abdomen. The scar that represented everything she'd lost, everything that had been taken from her. She had prohibited the healers from erasing the evidence of what had happened to her, she needed tangible proof that she'd once held in her body, a most precious life. With a strangled sob, she dropped to her knees and cried.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N Sorry, this isn't an update, I was informed by my daughter, who just started reading my story that this chapter was only partially posted, so I had to remove the old chapter 10 and re-post it. This all happened because I tried to fix an error I caught in it a couple of months back. Sorry. Chapter 19 will be up within the next seven days.**

Chapter 10 – Broken Dreams

The California sun streamed in through the lacy curtains, causing Hermione to hold her hand up to shield her eyes as she tried to wake up. Her eyes were swollen and her throat felt dry. It had been only a couple of hours since she had been able to fall into a restless sleep, after tossing and turning all night. Sleep came at a heavy price; the nightmares that had not plagued her in such a long time had come back with a vengeance. With a shaky breath she climbed out of bed and proceeded to get ready for to spend the day with Michelle and her family at the beach.

She took a quick shower, and for the first time really noticed that she had kept her body shape; was still athletic and had not put on too much extra weight, despite not doing any of the training. She chose to wear her simple black halter suit that covered the scar on her stomach, although her tattoo was almost completely exposed.

She slipped on a white eyelet lace sundress and a pair of silver sandals, and with a wave of her wand she tamed her wild hair into a braid. On the trunk at the end of her bed was a bag with her sunglasses, towel, suntan lotion and the book she had brought home yesterday. A knock at the front door signalled the arrival of Michelle. With a last look in the mirror, she grabbed the tote and walked out to meet her friend.

They had agreed to travel south thirty minutes along the highway to a lovely beach, where the waves were better and the weather warmer. They drove in Hermione's car; Shane and Russell had gone ahead in order to take advantage of better surfing conditions.

As they drove along the winding highway, their conversation turned to Hermione's native home. A new wave of nostalgia assaulted her as they passed Hearst Castle . The majestic building situated on a hillside in brought back memories of her beloved school in Scotland . She told Michelle of her time growing up in her parents' home, the excitement she had felt standing on the platform with her parents as they waited for her to board the Hogwarts' Express for the first time, and of meeting Harry and Ron that same day.

When they got to the beach they quickly found the spot where Shane and Russell had set up a blanket, the ice chest, an umbrella and an assortment of sand toys that were lying around. By the time the girls got there, they were out in the water; father and son, each astride their own surfboard bobbing in the ocean waiting for their wave. Michelle waved until she got their attention and they waved back.

"Honestly, Michelle, isn't Russell too young to be out on his own?"

"He's been on a board since before he could walk," she answered with a chuckle. "He'll be fine, Shane never goes too far from him. Come on, let's go for a walk.."

There was something comforting about the immensity of the sea. The two witches walked along the beach, sandals in their hands, letting the water lap at their ankles in a comfortable silence.

"I never get tired of the sounds the ocean makes." Hermione was gazing out into the vast body of water.

"I know what you mean." Michelle breathed in the fresh sea air. "I fell in love with it when we came here for our honeymoon and we never left."

"Sometimes it seems…" Hermione could not finish. How could she express that for her, the sounds of the seagulls, the crashing of the waves, and the hum of the breeze seemed to call to her, that there were days in which the ocean seemed more alive than she felt.

Even in this faraway town in California, the names of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger were known. The people that lived here, however, were extremely respectful of her privacy and Michelle would never have dreamed of asking her about that time of her life if she was not so concerned for her. Seeing the sadness in her eyes, Michelle could not help wondering what had caused this witch to move so far away from everything she knew and loved.

"Do you keep in touch with Harry and Ron?" asked Michelle softly as she stooped to pick up a delicate shell.

"Before I moved here I asked Harry and Ginny to have a telephone installed in their home," Hermione said as she continued to look out into the sea. "I speak to them about once a month and they've been to visit me twice since I moved here. Last time they were here, Ginny insisted on learning to surf." She could not help but smile as she thought about her friend's daring. "Harry wouldn't even try it but she had a natural ability that blew both Harry and I away. It was as if she were born on a surfboard. She's something else. I don't think there are too many things she would be afraid of trying."

They walked further without talking, until Michelle asked, "And Ron? Do you keep in touch with him as well?"

It seemed that she had not heard, and Michelle thought the wind had carried her question out to sea until she noticed Hermione slowly shaking her head.

"No. I don't speak to Ron." The statement left no room for questions.

"You know, the offer still stands. Anytime you want someone to talk to, I'm available."

"Thanks. You have no idea how much that means to me." With her gaze on the horizon she added, "It's been a bit difficult being away from my friends and family."

"You don't have to be alone." Michelle took her hand in hers. "Shane, Russell and I can be your California family." The deal was sealed with an embrace.

Once they returned to their spot on the beach both witches smothered their skin with suntan lotion and settled down for some peaceful sunbathing, and, for Hermione, reading the book she had brought with her.

An hour later, the guys were back from surfing and everyone was hungry. They spent the rest of the day eating the fried chicken, sandwiches, and watermelon. Russell had them all making sand castles, and splashing in the water. By the time Hermione got back to her little cottage, she was completely exhausted, but she also felt a new sense of peace. She was certain that she would be able to put her memories away, file them in the deep recesses of her mind, and go about her new life.

She was wrong. They came back with a vengeance as she tried to go to sleep.

The day he had given her the ring was supposed to be the first day of the rest of their lives, but fate had other plans for them.

Telling Lucius and Narcissa had been much easier than she had ever thought. Voldemort's once right hand man and his wife had been drastically changed by the events of the war. Voldemort's indifference towards Draco's life opened their eyes to the truth about the cause they had been fighting for. They had witnessed firsthand the murders of both wizards and muggles at the hands of the madman they had sworn allegiance to, and the one thing they had learned was that everyone bled red. The relief they had felt when Harry killed Voldemort turned to gratitude, not only toward him but the two who fought alongside him.

They had both known of Draco's feelings for her long before they met them for lunch to announce their engagement, and she had been taken aback at the sincere acceptance she had received from his parents. It was not long before Narcissa began to talk about wedding plans.

The first thing she had done when she got home was to send a message to Ginny and Harry letting them know about her engagement. She was not surprised to get a message back from Ginny asking her to meet her for lunch the following day.

She had been waiting for more than half an hour in the small restaurant in Diagon Alley, and Ginny still had not appeared. It was not like her to be late. Just as she was going to get up to leave, she felt someone place a hand on her shoulder. The weight of the hand was so familiar that she froze in her seat. A feeling much like a boulder dropping to the pit of her stomach refused to allow her to turn in her seat. Her mind declined to believe it. Only the sound of his voice was able to break the spell.

"Hello, Hermione."

With a small gasp she looked up into a pair of brilliant blue eyes. The last year and a half had not really changed his appearance at all. His hair was a bit longer and he seemed to have lost a little weight, but other than that, there was very little change. The sadness that had clouded his eyes was still there.

"Ron. What are you doing here?" She could not believe her eyes. "When did you get back?"

He gave her a small smile. "Can I join you?"

"Of course, sit down. I'm waiting for Ginny." She absently fidgeted with the napkin on her lap. "She was supposed to be here a half hour ago. I'm not sure what's happened to her." Her heart could not seem to return to its normal rhythm.

"Yeah, well, she was at the Burrow last night when I arrived. After talking with her, I asked her to let me come to meet you instead. I wanted a chance to talk to you alone. She won't be coming."

"Last night?" It was now beginning to make sense. "You just got here last night? That's quite a coincidence."

"A coincidence?"

Hermione tilted her head. "Let's not play games, Ron. We've never had to in the past, so let's not start now."

"You're right," he conceded. "Mum owled me with some very disturbing news and I had to come see for myself if it was true or if it was all rubbish."

"You know better than that," she said. She looked away before she continued, unable to meet his eye. "You know that Molly has never spouted rubbish before in her life, so whatever you've heard is probably true."

If she had not known him as well as she did, she would have missed the tensing of his body; a clear sign that he was attempting to keep his self-control.

"Why won't you look at me?" he asked.

"What are you doing here Ron?" she asked, turning to face him "What brings you back after all this time? What do you want?"

"I want you to tell me that mum, dad, Ginny and Harry are wrong when the say you've taken up with Malfoy," he said through gritted teeth. "I want to hear that they misunderstood your owl post that said you're engaged to that git. I want you to tell me that there is no fucking way you would ever let that piece of Pureblood shit into your bed, much less agree to marry him." His voice was still deceptively soft but his eyes were blazing.

"You are amazing Ron. Who do you think you are?" Her voice was just as soft and deadly as his. "Let me be the one to say that your assumptions are wrong. I _have_ 'taken up' with Draco. I _am _engaged to marry him. As to whom I do or don't allow into my bed, that's none of your business. You walked away, remember?"

"I know that! I know I'm the one that left; I'm the one who hurt you. But can't you see that I did it for you as much as for myself? We weren't good for each other. You know that."

"I understand that. I do. In the beginning it was hard because I refused to face the truth, but now I know that you did the right thing. You walked away before we destroyed each other and I'm grateful to you for it."

"All right, then, but I didn't sacrifice the only woman I ever loved so that she could turn around and end up with someone who can't possibly know how to love anyone but themselves, Hermione!" He kept running his hand through his hair as if trying to erase the mental images her words had branded in his brain. "Shit. I need you to listen to reason."

"No, Ron! Stop. You have no idea what you're talking about. You know nothing about who he is now, and in all honesty, you don't know anything about who I am now."

"No, Hermione, you stop. What the hell are you thinking? He was a Death Eater. Have you forgotten?" The more he talked the angrier he became; there were bright red splotches appearing on his face. "He was one of the bastards that caused us to fall apart. How could you? Where's your loyalty?"

She stood up and leaned over the table. "You dare speak to me of loyalty? My loyalty is with my family, my friends, and it is with Draco. Where's yours? Here? Australia ? Where, Ron? Tell me, because I'm confused." She gave him one last furious look. "I'm so sick of this. I refuse to listen to any more crap from anyone. Why can't you accept my decision? Why can't you trust my choice? I can't believe that _his_ parents have been more supportive than my friends."

She gave him one last furious look. "I'm so sick of this..."

She must have turned away too quickly, because she immediately felt light-headed, and she stumbled. Had it not been for Ron's arms, she would have fallen.

"Hermione!" His eyes were filled with concern. "Are you alright?"

She took a steadying breath and nodded. "I'm fine. I just got a little dizzy. I think I need to go and wash my face."

"Go on, then. I'll wait for you here." As she started to walk away, he took her wrist and whispered, "I'm sorry."

She nodded gently and continued to the ladies room. Neither Ron nor Hermione noticed the dark haired woman watching from across the room.

Once in the restroom, she hurriedly splashed water on her face trying to calm herself down. She was vaguely aware that someone had walked in. Looking up into the mirror, she saw a familiar looking woman glaring at her with a sinister smirk on her face.

"Auror Granger. I've been waiting a long time for this." The woman quickly and expertly cast a body binding curse at her. She hurriedly rummaged through Hermione's robes until she found her wand and discarded it on the floor before disapparating them both away.

The room they arrived at was cold, dark and filthy, and the only illuminating beam of light was streaming in from an open door. It was completely devoid of windows. The unmistakable stench of urine and faeces assaulted her causing her to retch violently, and as she vomited on the floor, the light-headedness she had felt at the café returned.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to get control of her swirling thoughts. She had no idea where she was, but she was aware that she was in trouble. She had realised that as soon as she had looked into the hate-filled eyes of Gloria Anglis in the mirror. Her wand was on the floor of the loo back at the café, so she knew that she would have to use her head to get out of this; she would have to remain calm. She felt the curse that had been binding her slip away.

"What do you think you're doing?" Clutching her stomach, she tried desperately to stop gagging. A furtive look around told her that there were others in the room.

Before she could form another thought, she heard the woman calmly cast the Cruciatus and immediately felt an excruciating pain rip through her as she crumpled to the soiled floor. It was as if every nerve ending in her body were on fire. On and on the pain went. It seemed an eternity before the curse released her.

As she lay in pools of her own vomit, her body still screaming in agony, a well place kick into her ribs propelled her onto her back.

"How does it feel, Mudblood? How does it feel to finally be where you belong?" The woman's voice was loud and shrill, but to Hermione's pain-blurred mind, it seemed to come from far away.

"Now, now, Gloria, you mustn't kill her yet" said an unfamiliar female voice. Beads of perspiration dotted Hermione's brow as she fought to control some twitching in her limbs. She could smell the throw up in her hair and on her face.

As the pain began to subside a little, she tried to get her bearings. Who were these people? It was apparent that they were Death Eaters, but their identities were completely unknown to her. Using all her strength, she pushed herself first onto her hands and knees, and then to her feet. Wobbling a little, she looked around at the hooded figures in the room and spat on the floor.

"Who are you?" She could barely manage to gasp out the words. "What do you want?"

The second woman stepped forward with a menacing sneer. "Did you honestly believe that you'd won?" Her voice remained even, but her face was contorted with unadulterated hate. "Did you think you'd get to ride off with your Prince Charming while we sat and watched our husbands and sons rot in Azkaban?"

"He's a Pureblood and she dared touch him," another unknown voice called out from among the ring of hooded figures growing tighter around her. The faceless woman rushed forward and backhanded her with such a force that Hermione felt her lip split. In the span of a second the crowd closed in on her and began to pummel her. She felt the blows on her head, back and stomach. There was not much she could do but to hunch down and cover her head.

"Enough!" The command was spoken by Gloria Anglis. "Let's get this done." With a flick of wand, she rendered Hermione incapable of speech as pain exploded in her head. She doubled over with her hands on her temples trying to keep from falling over.

Just as she thought she they could not inflict anymore pain, she heard the shout.

"Sectumsempra!"

Her screams, mixed with the maniacal laughter of the others in the room was the last thing she heard before succumbing to darkness.

The horrifying pain that made her lose consciousness also yanked her back from that abyss. It felt as if she had been cut in half. For a paralysing moment, she thought back to the time she had been tortured by Bellatrix. Her hand instantly went to her abdomen and with a hiss she pulled it back. Her shirt was ripped and the flesh on her stomach was torn. Her clothes were soaked with what she knew was her blood. Her head was splitting, of that she was sure, and opening her eyes was a chore she was not sure she could accomplish. There was absolute silence, only the sound of her shallow breaths could be heard. With a determination that was an integral part of her, she forced her eyes open. It was a few moments before she could discern anything, because the room was completely dark, and the only way she could tell she was in the same room was by the stench. Fighting back the revulsion she felt, she attempted to get to her feet. Her whole body ached but she ignored the aches as she frantically searched for a way of escape.

Feeling her way around, she ran her hands along the wall, hoping for a hidden door. The room had no windows and the only way out seemed to be the door that had been open before but was now firmly shut. She knew that the door would be locked so she didn't even attempt to open it for fear of alerting them that she was awake. She was able to keep her panic at bay by remembering that Draco would find her. Harry and the rest of the ministry kept a close eye on anyone connected to the Death Eaters they had apprehended. They would know what to do. For the present, all she could do was to stay alive.

She was losing a lot of blood and she could feel herself becoming weaker, so, after what seemed like hours of searching, she came to the conclusion that the only way out of here would be through the very door that separated her from the ones who had brought her here in the first place. She tentatively tried turning the knob and was surprised that it turned; they had left it unlocked. Why would they leave it unlocked? It seemed too easy. Did they believe that they had killed her?

With a sense of trepidation, she slowly opened the door. The passageway was dark but there was light streaming in from an open door at the end of the corridor. Painfully she crept towards it, trying to stifle the urge to scream in agony with each step she took. She could hear angry murmuring as she got closer.

"What the fuck were you stupid bitches thinking?" She did not recognize the voice of the man she heard yelling. "I told you that you were being watched and you still went ahead with this harebrained scheme!"

"We don't care! They'll never know what happened to her." The voice belonged to the woman who had struck her in the face. "We'll take care of the body. Gloria was right. That whore is the cause of all our problems."

"You're insane. _You_ are the cause of all your problems now! Don't you understand that they'll be looking for her?" the unknown man said. "They'll never stop searching for her and I wouldn't want to be in your shoes when they figure out what you've done to her."

Hermione felt herself slide down the wall that she had been leaning on. Her legs had lost all strength and holding arms around her middle, she could feel her where her flesh was hanging, ripped apart by the curse that Anglis had thrown at her earlier. She knew she was losing consciousness again, and prayed that Draco would get to her before the crazy women in the next room did.

The shouting suddenly grew louder, the women began to shriek and she could hear them trying to run. There were flashes of red and green illuminating the hallway where she lay. Curses were flying all around and she knew he was there, knew he had come for her. She could no longer make out what they were saying but she could have sworn she heard Ron's voice. It took all her strength to lift her head.

"Where is she?" Ron's voice bellowed as he rounded the doorway. He froze as his eyes met hers. Draco came next. His eyes, the colour of cold slate, were murderous as he took in her condition; the pools of blood smeared down the hallway and on the wall, and the bruises on her face and body. The last thing she heard before she blacked out was his order to Ron for him to take her to St. Mungo's.

The bright lights were burning through her lids. The voices were all unfamiliar. She wanted to open her eyes, but they refused to cooperate. Their words made no sense.

"We couldn't save the baby…"

"…too much internal damage."

"they're all gone…"

"I don't know if I can help him…"

It took too much effort to understand, so she allowed herself to drift off again.

Ginny's face was the first to come into focus when she was finally able to open her eyes. She was sitting by her side, her eyes closed, head lying by her own, as if she had fallen asleep while watching over her. Her head still felt as if she had been hit with a hammer, but the agonising pain that had ripped through her body was gone. The bed she was lying in was clean and the air smelled sterile; she realised she was in the hospital.

Gently reaching up, she placed her hand on her friend's face. Ginny's eyes snapped open.

"Hermione, you're awake." She sat up and took her hand in hers. "We've been so worried." She had never seen Ginny cry, but her friend's eyes were suspiciously moist.

She wanted to reassure her, but she was having trouble speaking. Her voice sounded thick and raspy to her own ears.

"I'm fine." It was all she could manage. Looking around she saw George sleeping in a rocking chair at the other end of the room.

There were so many questions she needed answers to, but she did not have the strength to ask them. Before anything else could be said the door to her room opened. Harry walked in followed by Ron. Both men looked as if they had not slept in days. Her eyes darted back and forth between her best friend and her ex-boyfriend.

"Look, guys. Who do you think decided to wake up and join us?"

George woke up and hurried to the other side of the bed. Leaning down, he placed a kiss on her brow. "Oi, you gave us quite a scare," he whispered.

"Sweet Merlin, Hermione," Ron said, standing by the foot of her bed. "I'm sorry. I went to search for you when you didn't come out of the loo after five minutes."

"Ron found your wand on the floor and was able to get help quickly." Harry went to stand beside Ginny and took Hermione's hand in his. "I'm just glad that we had Aurors following Gloria Anglis for weeks or we wouldn't have had any idea where to begin looking for you."

"I should have followed you to the loo; I would have never left your side if I'd thought for one minute that you were in danger."

Pushing herself to a sitting position, Hermione looked at all three of her friends and asked the only question that she wanted an answer to. "Where's Draco?"

They all looked at each other, no one wanting to meet her questioning gaze.

"Harry," she said, her throat sore from all of the screaming she had done. "Where is Draco?"

"Look, Hermione, you've had a hard three days, why don't-"

She didn't allow Ginny to finish her sentence.

"Where. Is. Draco."

"I think it would be better if we wait until your mum gets back." Ginny honestly thought that she would be better able to handle the news if her mother were by her side. "She should be here soon, she only went to get something to eat."

"No. I want to know where he is. What have you done?" Her eyes immediately found Ron.

He raised both hands up in surrender. "I didn't do anything, Hermione, honestly." He turned to look at Harry. "Tell her. She needs to know. Everything."

She turned to face the one person she could trust to tell her the truth. Her eyes met his in a silent plea.

Taking a deep breath, Harry began. "I contacted Draco as soon as Ron told me what happened. He was very calm until we arrived at the house they were keeping you at." Looking nervously at Ron, and then back at her, he continued. "After the initial fight he followed Ron into the hall. When he saw you on the floor, when he saw all the blood, your busted face, he lost it. He told Ron to bring you here and then calmly walked back into the sitting room where we were holding the witches who kidnapped you." Harry took another deep breath. "Hermione, if I could have stopped him I would have, but it all happened so fast. He walked in and began killing the women one by one, the killing curse was spewing from his lips faster than I would have ever imagined. By the time I was able to disarm him, he'd already killed four of them."

"Where is he, Harry? Take me to him."

"I can't, Hermione. You can't leave the hospital yet."

"I'm fine," she said as she tried to get out of bed. "Take me to him!"

Ginny's next words stopped her. "No, Hermione. You're not fine… you lost the baby."

Wide brown eyes collided with emerald ones. Harry could not look away. Her heart knew what her mind refused to acknowledge.

"Baby?"

"There was a baby, Hermione. The healers did everything they could to save your life but the child was gone before we even got you here." He would not keep any of it from her. "They assure us that you'll be able to have more children, but for now you have to rest, you have to let your body heal."

They'd had a baby. Their child had been ripped from her before she had even known of its existence. Her tears began to fall and she was more frightened than when she had been held captive. She knew she was an instant away from hysteria and she wanted Draco to hold her and tell her it would be alright.

"Why isn't he here? Harry? I need him."

Looking into her eyes, Harry said, "He can't be here Hermione. He's being held in Azkaban."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Her world had come crashing down around her. Try as she might, she couldn't block out the screaming which kept reverberating through her head. The sound of absolute despair was torture. Only when she felt strong arms wrap themselves around her, pulling her into a warm and comforting embrace, did she realize the screams were coming from her.

"Shhhh, my love, we'll work everything out." Her mother's whispered words had a calming effect that no draught could produce. "My darling, I can only imagine what you're going through." She continually rocked her back and forth until Hermione fell into a fitful sleep.

_He was there, in her room. His slate gaze pinned on her as he walked through the door. His smile told her that everything would be okay, that they could fix whatever was broken. She smiled with relief as she held out her arms to him. He sat on the edge of her bed and took her face in his hands. His lips found hers and he trailed kisses along her jaw to her neck and back to her ear lobe. She was drowning in the delicious sensations his kisses were causing, and felt intoxicated by his cologne, but as she leaned into him she caught a whiff of a foul odor. Taking a nip of her ear, he spoke in a hushed undertone but the voice was that of a woman: "Did you think you could touch a Pureblood and get away with it?" _

_Pulling away from her, his eyes had changed to an onyx and his lips thinned into a hard line. His warm smile was replaced by a cold sneer._

"_Did you believe we would let you take his body into yours, let you accept his seed without retribution?" He was gone and Gloria Angis was standing where he had just stood, her face contorted with hatred. "Did you believe we would let you keep the spawn?" Her maniacal words were uttered as she plunged the dagger through Hermione's stomach._

"_No! My baby! Draco, help me! My baby…get away…"_

"Hermione, wake up. Come on, wake up." George was gently shaking her. "It was only a dream. It's _not_ real." His eyes were bloodshot, his hair unkempt and he looked as if he had slept in the same clothes for a week.

"No! It wasn't a dream. It's real!" She was unable to stop sobbing. "Look!"

Her screech could be heard out in the corridor.

Pulling back the sheet and drawing her nightgown up, she unabashedly showed him the ragged scar running across the lower half of her torso. "They tore my baby from my body. It's gone…dead. _This is real_."

Throwing herself out of the bed, she tried to run past him and out the door, but he grabbed her around her waist. "Hermione, calm down. You can't leave. You're not well enough yet." He never thought such a small woman could fight so hard. By the time he made it back to the bed with her still kicking to get loose, he was out of breath.

"They walked in and crushed all our hopes. Damn it! Sonofabitch! Eurgh! I need him, George, and if you won't get him for me I'll go find him myself!" She wiggled out of his grasp and lunged for the door just as Harry rushed in with a healer. After a brief struggle, they were able to give her dreamless sleeping draught. The last thing she remembered was crying on Harry's shoulder and asking for her mother.

Many hours later, she woke to the sound of George and Ron arguing in harsh whispers.

"What gave you the right to say that?" George sounded as if he wanted to physically hurt his younger brother.

"What the hell do you mean? I had every right, I love her."

"You're a fucking piece of work, you know that?" Hermione opened her eyes at the sound of a scuffle. George had Ron by the shoulders and was shaking him as he continued to speak. "I told you when you left that you're a coward, and I still believe that. If you had loved her you would have stayed."

It looked as if he was going to keep arguing, but in the end he just shrugged the hands off his shoulders and sighed. "Maybe you're right. Malfoy really does love her and hopefully they'll be able to get through this." Ron suddenly sounded resigned. "I should have stayed. I should have listened to her when she offered to quit work for me. If she had quit then, none of this would have happened. "

It felt as if he'd punched her in the chest. Was he right? Was her stubbornness the cause of all this? Was it her fault that Draco had been pushed to commit murder?

"No!"

Ron and George were both startled by her shout.

"No matter what you say, Ron, it wasn't my fault."

"Love, I never said it was your fault," he said as he rushed to her bedside.

"I'm not your love, Ron. I thought we would always be friends, but even that seems unlikely." She was desperately trying to sit up on the edge of the bed, but her head felt heavy, and she had to content herself with sitting up against the headboard. "Funny how you're ready to accept the fact that Draco really loves me. Just yesterday he was a git who couldn't love anyone but himself, remember? All it took for him to prove himself to you was for him to kill for me."

Ron looked at George for some help, but his brother refused to help bail him out of this. "Give me a break, Hermione," he demanded. "How would've you reacted if you heard I was shagging Pansy Parkinson?"

"I would have listened to your explanation. I would have trusted your judgment, and I would have understood…just like I did when you told me you were leaving me." Her softly spoken words were like a glass of ice water in the face for Ron. He realized too late that she had stood by and let him seek his peace of mind and happiness at the expense of her own. She did this without complaint, and he had repaid her by coming back after eighteen months and demeaning her with his better than thou attitude.

Ron flushed, and looked down at his feet. "Sorry," he muttered. "I shouldn't have said it." He swallowed hard. How could he make amends, after this? "I'll do anything to make things right," he said, in a voice that was tinged with both hopefulness and remorse.

She looked into the eyes of the man she once thought she'd spend the rest of her life with, and said one simple word.

"Leave."

She had agreed to stay for a week with her parents, but found that it was impossible to get any peace of mind there. Their home was too far removed from everything that was going on at the Ministry concerning Draco and his trial.

She appreciated the time she had spent with her mother and father. Nothing could compare to the love and comfort a person could only receive from their parents. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so pampered. Her mother had taken time off work to stay home with her, and her father had cooked all her favorite foods. She spend most of the hours of the day gazing out the window in her old bedroom, deep in thought. She thought of Draco, their baby, and the future that had been stolen from them. She tried to block out the memories of the kidnapping, because it caused her to hyperventilate or have anxiety attacks. Those memories were only able to harm her at night, in the vivid nightmares that continued to plague her.

Now, two weeks later, Hermione found herself back in her flat. Being in the apartment was a bittersweet experience for her. She missed him so much that there were times she would double over from the heartache. Visiting him was not an option. As an Auror, she was aware of the regulations the Azkaban administration adhered to. However, she also knew that Harry's name carried a lot of weight, and although she had never taken advantage of his celebrity, she would not think twice about it now. Harry had promised to come over to visit her today. She was going to find out whatever she could about his situation, and what she could do to help him get out.

The floor would soon be bare with her walking back and forth in front of her fireplace. She had spent another night fighting off the demons of her nightmares. Hermione was torn between dreading the moment when sleep overcame her and anxiously waiting for the moment in her dreams when she would see him again. Some nights, she would awaken in the middle of a scream. She would happily relive the horrors she'd experienced, in order to spend a few moments with him in her sleep, if only it didn't all end with the ripping apart of her womb and the killing of their child. Her whole being ached for him. Today she would find a way to see him.

Her pacing was interrupted by a soft pop as Harry apparated into her living room. His eyes were filled with concern as he took in her haggard appearance.

"Hermione, you promised you would get some rest if you were allowed to come home."

"I have been resting Harry. That's all I seem to do. Sleep, eat, and think." She struggled to keep her voice steady. "I'm going mad lying about doing nothing. This idleness is going to push me over the edge."

He took her by the hand, led her to the sofa and gently urged her to sit. "This idleness is what the healers recommended, and it doesn't look like you've been resting. Have you taken a good look in the mirror lately?" He refused to pull any punches. "No offence, Hermione, but you look awful. The last time you had those dark circles under your eyes we were sitting in a tent in the middle of nowhere trying to find Horcruxes without Ron."

"Harry, do you think this is easy for me?" she said incredulously. "It's not. I hate it. I want to be able to close my eyes and not see their faces. I wish I could sleep without waking in the middle of the night with the stench of shit loitering in my nostrils." Her whole body was shaking with suppressed anger. "I want to feel hopeful that one day he'll be back with me instead of rotting in that horrible place, but it's hard when I'm just feeling so sad. So forgive me if I don't look as chipper as you'd like." She finished with sob.

"I know that this is hard for you." How he kept his voice so calm was a mystery to her. "I know that you're punishing yourself for something that you had no control over."

He shook his head at her startled gasp. "Don't! Don't try to deny it…"

"What are you talking about?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You didn't cause this, Hermione." He was pacing in the exact place she'd been earlier. "No one knows better than you that there is evil that has no bounds, and we can't control that."

"Harry, come out with it. What are you saying?"

"Ginny told me that you didn't let the healers remove the scar. Why?" He had stopped in front of her and was looking at her directly. "Why would you punish yourself like that? What good does it do?"

She walked over to him and took the front of his shirt in her fists. "This scar is all I have to remind me of my baby." Her face was inches from his. "They took everything from me. I had no choice when the kidnapped me. I had no control over them cutting my child out of my womb as if it were a cancer. I had no control over Draco killing them and effectively cutting himself out of my life, but _this_…." She let go of him and pressed her hands to her abdomen. "_This,_ I had control of. _This_ was my decision and no one can change it, not them, not Draco and not you."

Harry looked at her with a new understanding. This was the Hermione he knew. Her strength was showing through even in her despair and for the first time in a long time he was beginning to believe that she'd be able to pull through this.

"I'm sorry Hermione. I never stopped to look at it like that. I honestly didn't come here to fight with you." He took both her hands in his.

"I know. I didn't mean to snap at you either." She led him into the kitchen and offered him some tea.

He silently observed her as she got prepared their tea and wondered if she would be able to handle the news he had to give her. Her strength was without question, but she was already recovering from the Sectumsempra Curse and the shock of losing the baby, maybe he should wait a few days to talk to her about Draco's current situation.

She sat his cup of tea in front of him and took the chair opposite. "I can see your brain working. I know you have news for me." The right side of her mouth twitched upward in a knowing smile. "Out with it, Potter. I can handle it."

"I know you have a lot of questions and I want to be completely honest with you, but you have to promise to be rational and objective." He bit his lip, a little put out by her overly observant nature.

"I know it's bad. The whole situation has the makings of disaster, but you're going to have to tell me eventually. It may as well be now."

"Where do you want me to start?"

"Start at the beginning. How did you find me? Was Draco with you when you figured out where I was?"

"He was the one who remembered where the place was, and he was the one that broke the wards so we could get in. The old mansion belongs to the Goyle family. It was placed where he and his parents often visited, so he knew exactly how to get in."

"I ran into the drawing room to see that Dean, Seamus, and Jason Miles were standing guard over four witches. Gloria Angis was one of them as well as Maria Corvallis, Selena Coates and Nelva Actis." He set his cup down and walked over to the sink. With his back to her he took a deep breath and continued. "I was desperate to find you but Seamus told me you'd been found and that Ron had transported you to St. Mungos."

"Harry, there was a man there. I don't know who he was, but I know there was a man there."

"You're right. We caught him outside, before we went in, just as he was leaving. His name is Franklin Angis, Gloria's father-in-law. He was held for a few days for questioning but we couldn't find anything to indicate that he'd been involved in the kidnapping. We had to let him go."

"I think it will be okay, because he did seem angry at them for what they'd done." She tried to block out the images that were threatening to overtake her. "Go on. What happened after I was taken to the hospital?"

"I went into the sitting room to speak to Seamus about transporting the prisoners back to the Ministry for questioning. I was just about to leave for the hospital when he walked in." His voice was low. "I thought he'd come to tell me he was leaving for the hospital as well, but he turned to Angis and calmly pointed his wand at her and silently cast the killing curse. I've never seen so much anger in another before. He proceeded to methodically take out the other three women before we tackled him to the ground and took his wand."

The ticking of the small clock on her kitchen wall was all that could be heard for several minutes. Harry was thinking back on the fateful day, trying to see if there was anything he could have done differently. Hermione was trying to feel sympathy for the women who had died as a result of Draco's anger. It was easy for Harry to look back and see what things he would have changed, but Hermione found that she could not feel any sympathy for the women who had destroyed her life.

"Then what happened?" Her voice startled him after what seemed like days of silence.

"Hermione, you don't want to hear all the details. Believe me. Let's just say that we took him back to the Ministry and after being interviewed by Kingsley, he was taken to Azkaban. He'll be there while he awaits trial."

"What happened before you took him to the Ministry Harry?" She knew what he was trying to do and she would not let him skim over the facts. "I said I want to hear it all."

His eyes held hers.. He spoke without breaking eye contact with her. He wanted to be able to see if the wounds his words were going to cause would be too much for him to continue with what he had to tell her about Draco's condition now.

"Once he was disarmed, he stood up and calmly shook our hands off of him. We released him because we knew he wouldn't try to leave. I followed him as he walked back to the corridor where you had been found…" Harry trailed off and swallowed. "Please don't make me continue." He was not above begging.

"Keep going." Her eyes were still locked on his.

He took a deep breath, and continued. "He reached out to touch your blood smeared on the wall, and continued to slowly walk down the hallway. About halfway down, he bent over and picked up a piece of your blouse that was lying on the floor. He stood up and walked towards the door at the end. It was as if he were sleepwalking. We were hit with the foulest odor when he opened the door. But it was dark, so he turned and looked at me. I knew what he wanted, so I lit my wand. Hermione, neither one of us was prepared for the filth we found, but the sight of your blood, the evidence of your beating and torture, it was too much for him. He fell to his knees and clutching the scrap of fabric from your shirt to his face, he screamed and cried like a crazy man. I've never heard a sound like that in my life."

Their eyes were still locked, but his looked worried and hers were filled with tears. She closed hers and allowed the tears to fall; he pushed his glasses up and rubbed his in an effort to erase the pain he'd just witnessed.

Taking a steadying breath, she reached for the handkerchief Harry offered. He watched her closely, looking for any sign that would indicate that she was going to lose it like she'd done at the hospital, but she seemed to be holding in together better than he had expected.

"Does he know about the baby?" This was the question that haunted her for more than a fortnight. She had wanted him by her side when she was in the hospital, but after hearing how he head reacted when she had been found, she was frightened of what effect the knowledge of losing a child would have on him.

"No. I told his mum and dad, but they believe that it would do him more harm that good to find that out while he's in there." She dropped her face into her hands and quietly sobbed with relief. "Do you want me to tell him?"

Walking over to the cupboard, she shook her head. "No. He has enough to worry about without me adding to his problems." She reached up and pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey. "I think I need something stronger than tea, do you want to join me?"

Normally he would refuse the offer, and even suggest that she not take any either, but there was still more bad news to come. He gladly accepted the drink in hope that it would help him get through the last part of his visit. She poured them each a glass, set the bottle in the center of the table and sat back down. Taking a large swallow of the harsh drink, she sat back with an expectant look on her tired face, waiting for him to continue.

He told her how Draco had refused to defend himself during the interrogation. How he repeatedly expressed grief that he had not made the women suffer more before he took their lives. No matter how many different angles Kingsley tried to present as possible scenarios for what had happened, he'd refuse them all, saying that he had been in complete control of his emotions and had executed them for what they had done to her. His refusal to try to help himself out of the whole mess had forced Kingsley to send him to Azkaban to await trial.

"There was a problem last night though." Harry kept his eyes on her.

The moment the words were spoken she knew that it wasn't good. "What kind of problem? What happened?"

"We had some guards that were being paid by the Actis family to kill him. They want retribution for the curse he cast on Mervin during his apprehension and for the death of Mervin's wife." He reached over and took her hands to try to calm her fears. "Luckily for him, one of the guards backed out. He contacted the Ministry and I went as soon as I found out."

"Is he okay? What happened?" She was close to becoming frantic.

"When they found them, the guards were beating him pretty badly. We examined their wands and traces of the Cruciatus was found on one of them." His voice shook with anger. "They were arrested and Draco was taken to the infirmary to be checked out. Aurors have been sent to the Actis home to arrest the rest of them."

"Where is he! I need to go to him." She was the one pleading now.

"He's in a special ward at St. Mungos, but he'll be alright Hermione. He's recovering from his injuries, but…"

"But what? What's aren't you telling me?"

"He doesn't want you to go see him. He asked me to keep you away." All of a sudden, Harry couldn't meet her eyes, so he took a large swig of the firewhiskey.

"He what? Let me tell you something, Harry. I don't care what he says. I'm going to him, whether he wants me to or not." She stood and glared at him, daring him to try to stop her.

Twenty minutes later, they were standing outside Draco's room. As she stood there she was filled with apprehension. What if he really didn't want her there? Would she be strong enough to withstand his rejection?

"Are you sure you don't want me to go in with you?" Harry asked as she went to open the door.

She gently squeezed his hand and shook her head. "We need to speak alone. I'll be alright." Taking a deep breath, she walked in and closed the door behind her.

His eyes were focused on her as if he'd known she was going to walk through the door. The cuts and bruises that she had known would be there were much worse than she had expected. His right eye was swollen almost shut and there were numerous new cuts to his beautiful face. His right arm was bandaged and in a splint. What she could see of his eyes were filled with anger.

"I gave very clear instructions to Potter and the hospital staff that I did not want you to come in here."

Harsh words to hear from the man she loved, especially after being separated for so long.

"Did you think that you, Harry, or the pathetic excuse for guards that the hospital has posted for you would be able to keep me away once I found out where you were?" Her lopsided smile did nothing to soften his angry countenance.

"I expected you to do as I asked. I don't need you worrying yourself or making yourself sick over me." His voice had softened by a millimeter.

Rushing to his side, she leaned over and pressed her hungry lips over his. Even his refusal to kiss her back didn't deter her as she placed feather kisses on each of his cuts, his bruised eye and along his jaw. She breathed in his scent like a woman drowning. She had started to kiss his neck when she felt his good arm come up and gently but firmly push her away.

"Stop, Hermione. I want you to go."

She took his faced in her hands and looked at him fierce denial. "You're not serious. How can you ask this of me?"

Shaking his head, he remained firm. "I am serious. It's over. You need to get out of here and get on with your life." Every word he spoke was like a knife through her heart. "You're safe now. Get out!"

"You're insane. What about all our plans?" She _was_ frantic now. "What about 'I love you forever'? Are you trying to tell me those were just words, because I know that's a lie. I know you love me. Why are you trying to send me away?

"What do you want, Hermione? You want to sit around the rest of your life, waiting for me to get out of prison?" He was almost mocking her. "What if I don't get out? What if I'm sentenced to the Kiss? What then?"

"I'll wait till hell freezes over for you!"

"NO! You won't. I won't let you. I don't want you to. What I want is for you to leave…now. Please."

"You don't get to make that decision for me, Draco. Besides, we can work this out. We can get you out of this, if you would only cooperate with…"

"It's not going to happen! I fucking killed those bitches in cold blood, and I would do again if I had the chance. I told you once that there was monster in me and you didn't believe me."

" I love you! I won't ever give up on you. I don't care what you say."

"Leave Hermione. Potter!" Harry ran in at sound of his bellow. "Get her out of here!"

Harry took a sobbing Hermione back to her flat. "Tomorrow," he promised as he laid her on her bed. "I'll talk some sense into him. For now, try to get some rest."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Confrontations

It had been two days since she had visited him at the hospital. Two days since he had thrown her out of the room. Two days since she had felt her world turn upside down. Two days of darkness and desperation.

But now Hermione Granger had had enough. No more tears, no more feeling sorry for herself. There was a reason for the awe she inspired in witches and wizards all over London, even in those far more experienced than her. She was not the kind of witch to roll over and give up without a fight. A very frustrated George had reminded her of that fact the night before.

"Damn, Hermione, since when does the Gryffindor Princess let something as petty as a heartbreak bring her down?" She thought he was joking at first, but one look at his set jaw convinced her that he was through with her pity party. She could only look at him in confusion.

"Look, you know that I love you." He seemed to be searching for the words to make her understand. "You were the one light at the end of the dark tunnel I found myself in when Fred died, and you know that I will do anything for you. Right? " His eyes were pleading for her to listen. "You didn't give up on me."

Dropping her gaze to her hands, she said, "George, I know that what you're thinking but I don't know how to pull out of this. The pain is so raw that…" her voice broke and she couldn't continue. His arms drew her into a tight embrace but he would not relent.

"You can't let it break you Hermione. Don't let it break you. If you lie down and give in, they win." His voice was low but harsh. "Even though Voldemort is dead, he still wins. Don't you see? His twisted mentality will continue. If they win, it was all for nothing." He was close to tears as he looked into her eyes and gently shook her. "Come on, you survived more than most witches will ever have to, but you can't give up."

In that instant she realized that he was right. She had not died when Ron left her, and she would get through this as well. At least she had some control of this situation; there were still avenues open to her.

With that in mind, the next morning she got out of bed showered and got ready to do whatever it took to see Draco and obtain his release.

~*~*~

A very resolute Auror Granger walked into the offices of the Ministry of Magic for the first time in a month. She felt every head turn as she walked by and heard the whispered sounds of surprise at her unexpected return.

She gave Belinda a nod and a smile as she walked past her desk on the way to Kingsley's office. The surprised receptionist did not even have time to tell the Minister of Magic that Hermione was on her way in so the only notification he had of her arrival was the sharp knock on his door before she let herself in.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was a man rarely taken by surprise and, by the look on his face when she walked in, he'd been expecting her. He was sitting back in his chair with his clasped hands resting on his chest.

"Good morning Miss Granger." His deep voice was tinged with apprehension. "I hope you're not here for a new assignment. You know you still haven't been cleared by the healers to return to work."

With a smirk to rival her fiancée's she shook her head. "Good morning, Kingsley. I think you already know why I'm here..."

A small lift of his lips and a nod of his head prompted her to continue. "I need to go over his file," she continued hurriedly before her could deny her request. "Don't tell me that I don't have access to them because I'm taking over his case and I need to be privy to everything in the file."

"Hermione, Draco has declined representation."

"You know that the Wizengamot will never accept that, Kingsley. They will appoint him representation whether he wants it or not." She was determined to stand her ground. "Lucius and Narcissa will never allow it either. Do you think they will stand by and let their only son crap away his future?"

The Minister leaned forward and placed his arms on the desk. "Be that as it may, Draco had specifically demanded that you be kept out of this." Noticing the slight drooping of her shoulders he quickly continued, "Look, I would love to be able to get back one of my best Aurors, but he refuses to cooperate"

"Let me worry about Draco." She could sense that victory was at hand. "Kingsley, if I can get him released, and I _will_ get him released, I don't see what the problem is. Draco will be free, The Malfoys will get their son back and the Ministry recovers one of their best Aurors. It's a win-win situation." She finished with a brilliant smile.

Kingsley leaned against his desk and silently contemplated the young witch in front of him. He knew that if there was any way to get Draco cleared she would be the one to do it, but he also knew that if she failed, she may not ever be able to forgive herself for it. His decision was difficult but he knew he didn't really have any other options. Pushing himself off the desk he walked past her and opened the door to speak to his secretary.

"Belinda, can you please send a memo to Mr. Potter, asking him to come to my office as soon as possible."

"Of course Mr. Kingsley, I'll send that right away."

He closed the door and turned to Hermione. "I will allow you to go through his file on one condition."

"Anything."

"You will not, I repeat, you will not be representing him." His eyebrows shot up when it looked as if she were going to argue the point. "Ah, ah, ah, Miss Granger. Please just listen for one minute. You may get together with Lucius and Narcissa to discuss who you want to represent him and you can help with the gathering of information, but you don't have the background to be a competent lawyer for him."

She wanted to argue, but she knew that he was right. Draco's case would require the best legal counsel and there was no way she would jeopardize his chances of acquittal by letting her ego get in the way. With a furrowing of her brow, a quirk of her lip, and a sigh, she accepted his condition.

~*~*~

That evening found her at the Malfoy Mansion with Harry at her side. They sat in a large office with Narcissa and Lucius as they waited for the arrival of the legal dream-team; the legal team of Noble and Noble. The father and son operation that specialized in criminal law was the best law firm in London, having an exceptional record in both muggle courts and the Wizengamot. Marcus Noble, the father, was generally regarded as the best criminal lawyer in the United Kingdom, and James, the son, was following in his sire's footsteps.

Harry was surprised at the civility that Malfoy's parents had shown him since his arrival in their home. Their shared history was a bit strained, to say the least, but they'd been perfectly polite to him since he'd gotten here.

The file that Harry had brought with him lay on the desk in front of Lucius. In it was the report from his interrogation, any interviews with him once he had been transferred to Azkaban and a stack of photographs taken of him the night he was arrested and the day he was discovered beaten in his cell. They had neither let Hermione nor Narcissa look at it until this moment and it was fortunate for the women that they each had a strong man to hold them up when they first glimpsed the condition that they'd found Draco in.

Narcissa's cry of grief was that of a mother witnessing the results of a brutal assault on her only child. It was a sound of agony over not being able to protect the one human being given to her to protect and it was sound of mourning the fact that she had not been there to comfort and heal him. When the slightly built woman collapsed in her husband's arms he gently held her as he tightly clenched his jaw in an attempt to control his own rage.

Hermione stood stock still as she looked at the images of her fiancée before her. She picked one up and carefully perused it, running her finger gingerly over the gash on his cheek, the torn flesh on chest and the bruises that covered him from head to foot. Her outrage could not be contained and it reverberated off the walls, down the halls and out into the grounds of the beautiful mansion. Only Harry's arms kept her from breaking everything in the room in her grief.

"Let me go! Oh God, Harry! Please let me go!"

"Calm down Hermione." His harshly whispered words were meant to settle her down but only incensed her more.

"Did you see what they did to him?" Her eyes wild. "Look closely Harry and tell me you would be calm if that were Ginny lying in a pool of blood."

He turned her around to face him but kept his hands on her shoulders. "I understand, but you need to remember that we are here to help him. Your hysterics are not doing anything except making you lose focus of why we're here."

"Ahem. Harry is right Hermione." She had almost forgotten that Lucius was in the room. "We must strive to remain clear headed at all times. My son's welfare is in our hands now and," his cerulean eyes hardened, "we may not have been able to save him from the fate that is portrayed in those photographs, we are very much in time to save him from a fate much larger proportions."

She had neither the strength nor the will to argue. Dropping her head onto Harry's shoulder, she quietly fought to compose herself. He knew better than to try to utter soothing words to his friend; all he could do was run a calming hand through her hair as she helplessly trembled in his arms.

Minutes later, one of the many house elves that resided in the manor appeared to announce the arrival of Marcus and James Nobel. By the time the gentlemen were escorted into the office there was not any trace of the emotional breakdown that had just occurred in the office. Narcissa was seated next to Hermione, her face completely composed, back straight and hands clasped on her laps. Hermione had erased all evidence of her pain from her face and sat in the exact same manner as the woman next to her.

The father was a short, stout man with a slight limp. He wore black-rimmed glasses that rested on a nose that looked like it had been broken several times. His pale blue eyes held a glint of amusement. His son was tall and slimly built.

"Marcus, it is so good to see you." Lucius was out of his seat walking towards the older man with his hand outstretched. "Thank you for taking the time to come this evening."

"It's always a pleasure, Lucius. I just hope that we can help your boy get out of that place." The elder gentleman shook Lucius' hand and introduced him to his son. "This is my business partner and son, James. He'll be overseeing all the background work on Draco's case."

Lucius shook the young man's hand and turned to introduce the newcomers to Harry, Hermione and Narcissa. After all the introductions were done James began to read in detail the contents of the folder lying on the desk. His brow was creased in concentration while he read over the interrogation report.

"Mr. Potter, this report mentions that Kingsley Shacklebolt conducted Mr. Malfoy's initial interview himself." James spoke as he continued to rifle through the papers in the file.

Harry nodded and adjusted his glasses. "That's correct. The Minister wanted to make sure that Draco had every opportunity to say his side of the story."

Noble paused and looked up at Harry from across the desk. "What I don't understand is why Shacklebolt neglected to ask him about his and Miss Granger's lost baby."

"No!" Hermione was adamantly shaking her head. "Tell him Harry."

"I'm sorry Mr. Noble, but Draco doesn't know about the loss of the child." Narcissa's calm voice broke the tense silence that had preceded Hermione's outburst. "We, his parents and his fiancée, believe that he has had enough mental anguish with what he's been through. We do not wish to tell him about the death of our grandchild until he is released."

"I completely understand your view point Mrs. Malfoy," James spoke as if he were in front of a jury, "but my experience has been that there is nothing that tugs on the sympathy of the witches and wizards of the Wizengamot like that of a child's murder."

"No, we don't want him to be told, not when he's still being held." Hermione hissed.

"Miss Granger, please try to see this from our perspective." James was intently looking at her. "Your fiancée walked into a room and effectively exterminated five women. We will need all the ammunition we can get when we walk into that court room if we want to win this case."

"You'll have to look for _ammunition_ elsewhere!"

James continued to plague her. "I understand your hesitation, Miss Granger, but this is by no means an open and shut case, especially considering that he has never shown one ounce of remorse for his deed." Tearing his eyes away from hers, he turned a beseeching look to Lucius. "Mr. Malfoy, let us be realistic. The panel of the Wizengamot will not be sympathetic toward anyone who has committed five murders and shows no remorse."

Narcissa silenced the objection on the tip of Hermione's tongue by gently covering her hand with her own as she turned to address the older wizard. "Marcus, Lucius and I would consider it a personal favor to us if you can find a way to defend our son without exposing the fact that he and Hermione lost a child." The note of authority that laced her words was unmistakable and Marcus Noble was quick to acquiesce. "No worries, Narcissa, we'll work something out." Turning to Lucius he said, "Now, if we have your permission to take his file with us, James and I will begin work on the case tonight. You have my word that we will do everything in our power to see that Draco comes home soon."

~*~*~

For the next few weeks, Hermione felt she was going to lose her mind. The trial date had been set for the thirtieth of March - two weeks away - but she had not been able to see Draco at all. She had hoped to be allowed to see him during his meetings with the attorneys but they had refused her request at Draco's insistence. She could not believe how stubborn he was being about seeing her. Harry had informed her that he was still being held in a special holding ward in St. Mungo's so she didn't have to worry about his physical safety, but she was very concerned about his mental condition.

She sat in front of the fireplace in his flat sipping on a glass of wine wearing one of his shirts. It worried her to know that he had had days and days to think of reasons they shouldn't be together, weeks to justify his pushing her away. If she could only get in to see him; make him hear her out; make him listen. A soft 'oh' escaping her lips was the only indication that she had figured it out. Why hadn't she thought about it before?

~*~*~

"No."

"I have never asked you for it, not once." Hermione's glare would have been enough to make anyone else cower, but Harry merely glared back at her. "Ron, George… even Neville have used it for such noble purposes of sneaking out of school for unauthorized trips to Hogsmead or planting dung bombs in Percy's office!"

Harry had the grace to blush a little at the reminder of the pranks he had allowed his friends to do with the aid of his invisibility cloak.

~*~*~

Two hours later she impatiently stood outside the door to the room where Draco was being held. Her knees were starting to cramp from having to keep them bended in order to be completely covered by the cloak. She had to wait for an attendant to come with his dinner in order to follow her into the locked room. The guard posted by the door was slouched in his chair, asleep with an issue of Witches Weekly lying across his rotund stomach, so all she had to do was get inside and cast a silencing spell to keep their shouting - she was sure there would be shouting - from waking him.

Twenty minutes crawled by before she heard the person bringing his food. She soundlessly crept in behind him and waited against the wall as the food was placed on the tray by the bed. Her breath caught in her throat at her first look at him in almost six weeks. The sight of him brought a wave of love and desire crashing down around her. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever laid eyes on. She was grateful for the minutes she had to drink in the sight of him. He lay on his back on the cot with the sheets down around his waist. His arms were under his head and he was staring up at the ceiling. The bruises had all faded and there did not appear to be any scarring from his ordeal. The tattoo imbedded into his skin across his chest was a stark contrast on his pale skin. He looked as if he was made of marble; his perfect nose rivaled that of Apollo. His full lips suddenly set into a hard line as if he'd just had an unpleasant thought. From where she stood she couldn't see his eyes, but she was certain that if she could have seen them they would be the color of cold steel.

He didn't make a sound, nor did he acknowledge the food that was left for him. The attendant turned and walked out without even attempting to speak to Draco. With a tilt of her head Hermione listened for the click of the door before letting a moment of indecision flash through her mind. Without turning his head he spoke before she had a chance to remove the cloak that concealed her.

"Did I ever tell you how much I love your scent?" His voice was raspy from not being used. "Jasmine and oranges. I first noticed it while we were in school and it stayed with me while I was at the academy. It comes to me in my dreams." He inhaled a deep breath, closing his eyes as he exhaled. "You could never be in a room without me knowing it," he whispered.

The limbs that had frozen when he began to speak were suddenly in motion as she swept the cloak off and noiselessly walked to his bed. The argument that she had prepared for was forgotten as she looked down on the man she loved. All the words she had planned to say evaporated like so much smoke. Holding his gaze all she could do was breathe in the glory that was Draco.

Her trembling hands reached out to smooth the furrow between his brows. Without saying a word she bent to place whisper soft kisses along the side of his face, down and along his jaw, before settling her parched lips on his. All her suffering, all her pain, every lonely moment was conveyed in those first tentative caresses. For what seemed like an eternity, he lay there as if he were indeed made of stone… but after several heartbeats, one of his arms wrapped itself around her waist, lifting her until she lay on top of him. He grabbed the back of her head with the other, pulling her face down for a searing kiss.

She felt a knot forming in her throat and her eyes quickly filled with tears. While her body was rejoicing at the feel of his body against hers, her heart was overcome with happiness of being with the most important person in her life. For the first time since her abduction, Hermione felt safe and all she wanted was for Draco to hold her and tell her he still loved her, that everything would be okay. The last thing she wanted was to cry - that was not what she was here for - but she had missed him so much, and had been so worried about him that it became impossible for her to hold back any longer. Burying her face in his chest, she cried. She cried everything they had lost. She cried for the pain and terror she had endured, she cried for the anguish he must have gone through. She cried for the child they had never had a chance to defend, and she cried for all the uncertainties the future held for them.

"I'm sorry, love," he whispered as he held her. "Hermione, please don't cry." He cradled her head against him as he begged for her forgiveness. "Even though I don't deserve absolution, please say you forgive me. I can't believe that I let them do this to you. I-"

"What?" she asked incredulously as she looked up at him. "Draco what in the hell are you talking about? This wasn't something you _allowed_. Those women-"

"I should have been there. I should have known something was-" he paused as she pushed herself up to a sitting position.

"Stop!" She could sense the conversation getting out of control. "Draco, look at me," she said taking his face between her hands. "We can't let ourselves go down that road. We can't allow this thing to come between us. We can't let them win. You and I are going to get through this. _Yes, we are_," she emphasized at the hardening in his eyes. "Don't look at me like that, we will get through this, we'll get married, have a family and we _will_ be happy. Soon all this will be behind us."

Placing his hands on her wrists, he gently but firmly pulled her hands away and sat up on the edge of the bed next to her. Reaching over, he took her hand in his. "We can't ignore what happened, Hermione. It won't magically go away, no matter how good you are at magic."

"I'm not ignoring anything; I'm just convinced that Marcus Noble will be able to make the Wizengamot see that you are innocent…"

"I'm not innocent Hermione. I _did_ kill those women," said Draco. "Look at me," he said using his finger to lift her chin. "What is that you think they are going to do to me? Slap my wrist, give me my wand and send me on my merry way?" His bitter laugh was painful to hear.

Wrenching out of his hold, she stood and began to pace. "So what do you expect me to do? Give up hope?" She refused to look at him. "After everything that we've lost in our lives, our youth, our innocence, do you think I will let them take our future away?" The last was said as she stood looking out a window that faced a brick wall, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest.

Silence permeated the room as they both fought off a suffocating sense of despondence. Hermione wasn't sure if the chill she felt was in the room or came from the depths of her soul, but she was suddenly shivering uncontrollably. Warm arms engulfed her from behind. His warm breath caressed her face.

"I'm not asking for you to give up hope. I'm simply stating that we have to be realistic." His lips grazed her throat as he spoke. "You know that I will love you until the day I die, but I need you to know that I don't expect you to wait for me… I don't wish for you to wait."

"What?" She froze, tears silently coursed down her face. "Why would you say that? You think I'll be able to stop loving you? You think your love is stronger than mine?" Turning to face him, she continued. "Draco, I don't understand. Why do you get to decide what happens to us? This is my _fucking_ life too!"

He grabbed her by her arms and pulled her towards him. "That's right, Hermione, _your_ life. I need to know that you _have_ a life." All of a sudden he was shouting. "I'll be damned if I let you throw your life away on someone who you will never see again." At the look of disbelief on her face he said, "What? Did you think that I would allow you to visit me in that hell hole, even if they do allow it? Never! Do you understand? _You will never visit me there_." His eyes were like flint, hard and cold.

Hermione knew in that instant that if Draco were to be sent to Azkaban, she would never be allowed to see him, especially with what she had to do to just visit him here. In her heart of hearts she was convinced that the only way they would ever realize their dreams would be if he was spared that fate. With a determination she didn't feel, she took a deep breath, placed her hand on his chest, and began to explain to him why she felt that everything would be alright.

"Draco, you listen to me now. I know that things don't seem too promising," his labored breathing sounded like thunder in her ears, "but Harry, Marcus and James have been working diligently on your case, and I have every confidence that, even if you have to go to Azkaban, it won't be for long and you won't be kept with the general population there."

"You listen to me," he said. "I don't care what shit Harry and those lawyers tell you, you and I know that there is no way in hell that I'm going to get off. You want to know how I know that?" he asked as he cocked his eyebrow and placed his lips on her ear. "Because every witch and wizard on the Wizengamot knows that, not only did I kill those vile bitches, without a doubt, I would do it again. And again. And again, if I had the opportunity," he said in a deadly whisper.

Pulling away to look at her he continued. "Now, I need your promise that when they send me away, you will do everything in your power to forget me."

"No, I need a promise from you," she retorted. "I need for you to promise to fight for our future. You need to do whatever is necessary to get out of this. I need you to be remorseful, to be contrite, I don't know… _whatever is necessary_. Draco, promise me!" desperation was cracking her resolve to stay in control.

With a an exasperated exhale he said, "I can't. The cowardly little boy you knew in school, the one who avoided the consequences of his actions by lying and cheating is gone. I am not that person anymore. I refuse to back down from my convictions, Hermione; don't ask me to do that because I can't."

"Don't you think I know that? Do you think I'd be able to love that boy like I love you?" she shouted. "I need for you to be man enough to do what has to be done to ensure our happiness, Draco. Please listen to reason…"

"No! Hermione. No! If reason means lying and pretending to be something or someone I'm not, then no. I won't do it. I won't stand there and tell our world that I'm sorry for protecting my loved ones, I won't do it," he said. "I want… no, I _need_ you to promise me that you will walk away."

They stood there staring at each other for many minutes, each one conveying their plea to the other with their eyes. In those few minutes she witnessed the anguish he had lived through and had a glimpse of the pain he would endure if he thought she was suffering for him.

She saw his resolve, quietly walked into his arms, and told him what he wanted to hear.


	13. Chapter 13

**Nothing belongs to me but the plot, ****I don't own Harry Potter, the characters, or anything dealing with it, it all belongs to the amazing ****J.K. Rowling****.**

**I have no excuses for the update fail except that I suck.**

Chapter 13 – Long Lunches and Revelations

For the first time since moving to California, Hermione felt lighthearted. It was as if she was finally accepting that she could be content with the lot she had drawn in life. The road to her destiny had been long and difficult and didn't lead to the destination that she had envisioned, but all the same, she was willing to accept her fate. Having Michelle, Shane and Russell in her life made it bearable and she actually looked forward to the future now.

They had invited her to join them for their end-of-summer camping trip. They were going to Pismo Beach with a small group of friends for the long Labor Day weekend. Labor Day weekend marks the end of summer for Americans and is generally a time to sit around with loved ones and moan about the impending change of weather or the return to school. This was going to be her first chance to experience the holiday since she moved here. They were leaving the following morning for the campgrounds.

Hermione and Michelle sat in Giovanni's in Morro Bay eating the best fish and chips in town. The two friends had decided to spend the day walking along Embarcadero Street enjoying the tourist shops and having 'girl time' away from Shane and Russell. After their trip to the beach several weeks earlier, the girls had become fast friends who needed no excuse to get together for lunch, shopping or whatever else they could think of. Shane and Russell had gotten used to Hermione stopping by with a new book for Russell or an invitation for all three of them to go to her house for dinner. They thought nothing of her being at their house for lunch. She had truly become part of their family.

It was a gorgeous August afternoon in sunny California. The morning chill had worn off and now they sat by a window overlooking a calm sea. The chairs next to them were occupied by the many packages they had accumulated on their morning shopping spree. Bags with useless treasures such as a puka shell necklace for Ginny, braided leather bracelets for George and Harry, and the ghastliest seashell clock for Hermione's living room. Michelle had fared a bit better, she had found Russell a new body suit and Shane some wax for his board at the local surf shop. She had also bought a 'California Surfer' logo tee for herself and an 'I Suck at Surfing' tank top for Hermione.

"You would not believe the look on Shane's face when he heard that you were thinking of asking him for surfing lessons," Michelle giggled, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "I thought he was going to choke on his sandwich."

Hermione covered her mouth as she tried to contain her laughter until she'd swallowed her food. "I guess he's seen me trying to ride Russell's skateboard." she sputtered.

"Yeah, but he still tried to be all polite about it. He was all 'you know babe, maybe she should try boogie boarding first'. It was hysterical!" Michelle couldn't stop smiling as she thought about her husband trying to get out of giving her new friend lessons.

"I hope you finally told him you were joking," scolded Hermione. "I don't want that lovely man trying to avoid me every time I go to your house."

Reaching out to place her hand on Hermione's, Michelle was still laughing, "No, I told him. I had to. I felt sorry for him; he was starting to hyperventilate at the thought that he might be responsible for the demise of _**the**_ Hermione Granger. What would Harry Potter and Ron Weasley…" with a small gasp she stopped laughing and stared wide-eyed at Hermione. "I am so sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to…"

"No. Stop. It's perfectly alright." Hermione rushed to assure her. "I know that a lot of witches and wizards still associate us as a trio. It is absolutely fine." Giving Michelle's hand a reassuring squeeze, she continued, "Listen, you don't have to walk on pins and needles around me. I'm not made of glass."

"I know you're not." Michelle said. "It's just that you seem a bit happier and I don't want to do anything to make you…"

"Stop it!" Hermione admonished her. "Michelle, I _am _much better now," she said in a softer voice. "And it is due, in a large part, to you and your family. You've accepted me, no questions asked, and helped me forget that I'm oceans away from home."

"There have been times when I have wanted to ask questions but I figured that you would open up when you were ready," admitted Michelle with a smile.

"I appreciate your patience with me. I only want you to know that I am not as fragile as I would appear." Hermione was getting a bit nervous. "The thing is…the reason I'm even here, is that someone I love greatly decided that I was too weak or breakable or whatever, to face the reality of our life and I was forced out of his life, for my own good," she explained.

She was quiet for a few minutes before saying, "Two months ago I would've never thought that I would spend a whole afternoon shopping and having lunch with a girlfriend. I would never have thought I would have someone to talk to." Looking Michelle in the eyes she confessed that two months ago she had been ready to give up, ready to look for another place to move to because Camarillo reminded her too much of home.

"I guess you've really missed having Ginny to talk to."

"Actually," Hermione said, "I miss George more than anything." She paused then continued, "After Ron and I broke up, George became my best friend. There was nothing in the world that I couldn't tell him." Her voice drifted off as she thought about the friend she had left behind. "He was the only one that could understand how empty I felt when I lost the one person I thought would be with me forever."

"I can understand how being here, the weather, the ocean, how they would remind you home," Michelle was eyeing the witch closely, "but what I haven't been able to understand is why the thought of home is so painful for you."

"I know. I can understand how that would be confusing, especially to someone who doesn't know the whole story, but it's been too difficult to think about that part of my life, much less talk about it." She couldn't keep the sadness out of her voice.

"Listen, Hermione, you don't have to go into it with me if you're not ready." Michelle was suddenly terrified that she had pushed her too far and reaching across the table she desperately tried to reassure her friend.

For a while the two women simply sat in silence, each lost in thought. It was a few minutes before Hermione could make herself begin to tell her story. She let her gaze scan the majestic sea, her fingers twisting her napkin as she allowed herself to be infused by the past. It seemed as if she were falling into a pensieve, surrounded by memories she had spent so long trying to forget. For a moment it was as if she was all alone, everyone else in the restaurant faded away as she was battered by images of the life she had left behind. When she began to speak, it seemed as if she would not be able to recount the events that had brought her to this place in her life, but soon, just as steam rushes out of a kettle, unable to be contained any longer, the words were rushing out of her.

She talked about the end of the war, losing dear friends during the final battle, and her job. She described the small flat her and Ron had leased and the fun she'd had decorating it. Then, she talked of Ron's inability to cope with stress of her duties, and their eventual breakup. She spoke of the helplessness she had felt when he walked away from their dream.

Looking at Michelle, Hermione had to smile at the slight tensing of her friends jaw, a strong indication that Ron was lucky not to be in the same room as them. She quickly explained how George was there to help pick up the pieces of her life.

"I'd wake up in the middle of the night, after a bad dream, apparate to his flat and he'd spend all night sitting on the couch with his arms around me, reminding me what a git his brother was."

"Didn't his girlfriend ever get jealous?"

"I think Angelina knew that the time we spent together was helping George heal as well as myself. The more he told me that I could get through it, to take it a day at a time, the more he began to apply those beliefs to his own way of dealing with the loss of Fred." It was impossible for Hermione not to smile as she thought of companionship she had shared with George. "I know for a fact that George and Angelina's relationship is a hundred percent better because of his ability to get through the grieving process and I like to think that I had a little to do with that."

"Do you talk to him at all now that you live out here?"

"I actually get to talk to him quite often, in fact, last week he informed me that he popped the question to the lovely Angelina and she has accepted," she announced with a huge grin on her face.

"How do you British say it? Oh I know, 'that's bloody fabulous'," Michelle's accent left much to be desired but it did succeed in making Hermione laugh.

"Too right, it is bloody fabulous," she concurred, "but I will have to go back for the wedding and that is positively terrifying for me Michelle." Hermione had significantly sobered at the thought of having to go back to England.

"Hermione," began Michelle, "what happened after Ron left? I know he hurt you, but something else damn near _broke_ you. Why is going home such an ordeal for you?"

A sharp pain sliced through Hermione's chest as she thought back to **him**. Her hand immediately went to the tattoo on her chest and her voice was barely audible to Michelle as she began to tell her of the countless times she had been less than careful at her job, how she deliberately placed herself in danger just to spite Ron and how that resulted in her being paired with one partner after another until Harry had to go looking outside of their department for someone to work with her.

When Hermione began telling about the day she was partnered with Draco Malfoy, a man who had made her life a living hell while she was at Hogwarts, Michelle sat back and listened intently as her friend looked out over the ocean, her eyes alight at the memory of her lost love. Every syllable she spoke was laced with love and pain. It was clear that something happened to destroy them, and she merely sat and waited for Hermione to tell her.

During that very long lunch, in which both women switched from diet Cokes to Mojitos, Hermione was able to recount how she fell hopelessly in love with the world's most stubborn, but also most loyal of wizards. Michelle felt her heart break as she saw the conflicting emotions flit across her friend's face. She could read the happiness Hermione had experienced when he proposed, the surprise she'd felt at his parent's acceptance of her, the shock at the sudden reappearance of Ron and her disappointment at his inability to understand her relationship. She could physically feel the shudder of horror that shook the young woman sitting across from her as she spoke of the kidnapping and torture she had endured.

"All of that," Hermione whispered as she wrapped her arms around herself, "is preferable the abyss I fell into when I was told that I had lost our baby, a baby we didn't even know existed, and that Draco was incarcerated for the murders of the women who'd kidnapped me, all in the same day." Her smile did not reach her eyes, "Yes, that was a quite a day indeed."

Before she was even done speaking, Michelle was sitting in the chair next to her, wrapping her up in an encompassing embrace. Not only was Michelle trying to comfort Hermione, she was doing the only thing she could think of to hold herself together as well.

"I didn't know," she cooed to Hermione. "Sweetie I didn't know. I am so sorry." She was having a tough time holding back her own tears as she tried to smooth away Hermione's pain.

After several moments in which they merely held each other, Hermione let out a shaky breath and straightened her back, "It's alright Michelle. I'd promised myself that I would stop being so morbid about the whole thing," she said as she wiped her eyes with her napkin.

"You're not being morbid Hermione, for goodness sake! Don't you realize that you've dealt with more shit in the past ten years than most people deal with in all their lives," Michelle said incredulously.

"I know, I know," replied Hermione, "but the truth is…yes I have seen terrible things, I have experienced my fair share of suffering, but I have also known more love than most people. Think about it, some people go their whole lives and never find their true love and I was fortunate enough to find love twice." At Michelle's questioning look, she continued, "Yes, Ron loved me. His inability to cope takes nothing away from the fact that he did love me and I was happy with him. To a certain extent, I thank heaven that things went the way they did. If he hadn't left, I would never have fallen in love with Draco."

"If he hadn't left, you would not be as lonely as you are."

Looking her friend in the eyes, she softly said, "I can never regret being with Draco, loving him…not ever."

~*~*~*~

Later that night, as she settled down for the night, Hermione began to think back on the day that Draco was taken from her forever. After her talk with Michelle earlier that evening, she knew the memories would not let her sleep. Sliding on her slippers, she pulled on her terry robe and stepped out the French doors to the chilly night. She allowed herself to be submersed in the recollections of that day.

~*~*~

**The Trial**

Walking out of the fireplace at the Ministry of Magic on that day she had been totally unprepared for the chaos she encountered. Harry and George were waiting for her, but even they couldn't completely shield her from the crowd of people waiting for the biggest trial since the end of the war. Journalists were pushing and crowding to get to her, to shout questions or accusations at her. George put an arm around her and guided her to the lift as Harry held the mob back with a raised wand and a glare.

As they entered the court room, she noticed that Lucius and Narcissa were already there. His face could have been carved of marble, his lips set into a thin hard line, and the only sign of his apprehension was the crease between his eyes. Narcissa's pale face was impossibly whiter. She made no attempt to conceal her concern. After all that Lucius' misguided devotion to Voldemort had put them through, all that he had put Hermione through, it was mind boggling that they had both accepted her into their lives with open arms. They were certainly flawed, but for a fleeting moment Hermione was filled with pride when she looked at these two beautiful people, hoping that they would be the grandparents of any child she would have in the future. She acknowledged the two attorneys Marcus and James Noble with a nod of her head.

They all sat together in the front row, the Malfoys, Harry, George and Hermione. The Noble's were sitting at a table set up in the center of the courtroom. There was an empty chair at the table which was where Draco would sit. The court had allowed the trial to be open to the public so the room was quickly filling with witches and wizards. Somewhere in the back, she knew, sat her parents, Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys. Hermione uneasily twisted a handkerchief in her hands until George reached over and placed his hand over hers, stilling her nervous movements.

The entire court room was silenced by the entrance of the members of the Wizengamot. One by one they walked in and took their seats in the chamber. Enrobed, some in rich scarlet, some in midnight black robes, they marched in. The full knowledge that they and they alone held the fate of Draco in their hands and by default, the fate of her own, had made Hermione very anxious. She had attempted to will them to look at her so she could convey his justification, but they had moved regally by without as glance in her direction. The last one to enter had been Kingsley. He **had **looked over at Hermione and, clearing his throat, gave orders to have the prisoner brought in.

Time seemed to stand still. Then, suddenly he was there. He was wearing new robes with the Malfoy crest; he looked every bit the noble. He walked in with an air of confidence that spoke volumes. Quickly scanning the room, his eyes found hers and Hermione felt as if the room was devoid of oxygen. She fought the urge to run to him, doubting for a moment if she would be able to restrain herself. It was only the gentle pressure of George's hand on hers that kept her from doing something that would have ended in her being banned from the proceedings.

Draco's eyes told her that he was fine, not to worry and above all, to remember her promise to him. With a last look at her, he turned, stood behind his chair and faced the members of the Wizengamot.

Just as the proceedings were about to begin, there was a commotion from the corridor. Harry jumped out of his seat and rushed out, followed by George and out of the corner of her eyes, Hermione caught a glimpse of another red haired wizard exit the door behind Harry. There had been some cursing and shouting, some banging and scuffling, and after a few minutes, the three men returned. Hermione realized the third man had been Ron. All three of them walked in readjusting their robes, running their fingers through their hair, trying to pull themselves together.

At her questioning look, George took his seat next to her and whispered that there had been some young members of the Coates and Anglis family outside attempting to make trouble for Draco. He had assured her that they had been taken into custody where they would remain until their parents could come get them.

Turning back to the front, she saw that Draco was being told what had just happened. He turned to her and gave her a wink and his signature smirk before giving his attention back to the front of the courtroom. That man was absolutely insane sometimes, but she loved him with all her being.

The Anglis family was demanding the Wizengamot find Draco guilty and put him to death. They were adamant about not wanting him to serve prison time; they wanted his life in return for the life of Gloria. The family had been quoted in The Daily Prophet doubting whether Shacklebolt and the rest of the Wizengamot would be impartial. They had attempted to play to the sympathies of the public by stating that it would be completely unjust if Draco did not receive the Dementor's Kiss.

The thing that bothered Hermione the most was the fact that both the Actis family and the Anglis family had relatives in the Wizengamot. Ignacious Actis and Horatio Angis had been publicly neutral during the war, but it was a common belief that they had secretly supported Voldemort.

Kingsley Shacklebolt brought his gavel down and began the trial.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot, the accused is here, let us begin."

With those words the trial was under way. The friends and family of the murdered women came forward and spoke with poetic eloquence of the magnificent people the women had been, they cried convincingly over the loss of their lives and refused to believe that their loved one were capable of the atrocities that the defense had listed as the cause of the massacre. Hermione noticed more than one witch on the Wizengamot dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs.

Marcus Nobel requested that Hermione be allowed to speak and Kingsley immediately gave permission for her to approach and be questioned. Never in her life had she felt as terrified as she climbed up to the witness stand. She had been shaking like a leaf until she looked over and locked eyes with Draco. For him she would walk on fire, she could do this.

James Nobel faced the members of the Wizengamot as he spoke to Hermione. "Miss Granger, can you please tell the court of the events of the afternoon of August twenty first, two thousand and one?"

Without looking away from Draco she began her tale. She told them about going to the restaurant to meet with Ginny, how she had met with Ron instead. Holding nothing back, she spoke of the argument she had had with Ron. She bowed her head as she talked about not feeling well and excusing herself to go to the loo.

For a few moments it seemed as if she wouldn't continue, but after a deep breath, "I remember entering the ladies room. I was feeling a bit lightheaded so I splashed cold water on my face. I heard someone come in and when I looked up, I recognized Gloria Anglis."

"Did Mrs. Anglis speak to you at all," asked James.

Looking back at Draco, Hermione answered, "Yes, she said something about having been waiting for me for a while." Turning back to James she continued, "The next thing I remember is waking up in a windowless room…" she stared at a wall, seeing something no one else in the room could see. "I couldn't move and the stench," she said in a dead voice, "the stench made me sick, I think I vomited, I know my head was spinning."

Turning to face the members of the Wizengamot, she described the nightmare she had woken up to.

"When I finally felt the binding curse lift, I was surrounded by cloaked witches." She was afraid to look over to Draco, afraid that this was hurting him more than it was hurting her, but it was as if he was willing her to look his way. Meeting his eyes again, she continued, "Someone backhanded me and the rest began to beat me, but Gloria tired of their games and ordered everyone back."

Draco's jaw was ominously tensing and Hermione rushed on to keep him from doing something that would jeopardize his case. "Gloria shouted Sectumsempra and all I remember is an excruciating pain, then nothing but darkness."

Brown eyes met silver, hers screaming at his to please keep calm. The entire room went absolutely silent.

After what seems like a million years. James Nobel cleared his throat and continued, "Miss Granger, do you recognize any of the women who are pictured here?" He was standing before a large monitor with the faces of the women who had haunted her dreams lately.

Pulling her gaze away from Draco, she said, "Yes, they were all there, in that room. The first one is Mrs. Angis, but the rest of them were all there."

"How long were you unconscious?"

"I don't know. I only remember waking up and somehow making my way to a long corridor."

"Did you see anyone while you were in that corridor?"

"No. I only heard voices, angry voices, coming from a room at the end. There was a man there and he was upset at someone."

"Did you have any idea who it was that was in that room?"

"I did not. I was in a significant amount of pain and I could see that I was losing a lot blood. I do know that I was terrified of being found."

"Did they find you?"

"No. I remember that there was a commotion, shouting and flashes of light. I remember seeing Draco and Ron. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital."

"Yeah! While you were napping, that cold-hearted bastard was massacring them, you fucking Mudblood!"

Hermione had no idea who had shouted out those hate-filled words, but the court room was immediately thrown into chaos.

She froze and looked over to Draco. In horror she saw him stand and with a roar, lunge toward a tall, dark haired wizard sitting with the families of the dead women. He was quickly grabbed around his waist by both his attorneys and wrestled back to his seat. The other wizard was being restrained by members of his family. Everyone was shouting at once. The pounding of Kingsley's gavel was completely muted by the noise.

"Order in this court!" Shacklebolt demanded, magically amplifying his voice. "Order in this court! Everyone will return to their seats or be subject to arrest!" Even with the threat, it took several minutes before order was restored.

"There will be no further outbursts of any nature," Kingsley shouted. "The next person to speak out of turn will be immediately arrested. Is that understood?" Turning to James he asked "Mr. Nobel, do you have any further questions for the witness?"

"No further questions for now Minister, but I reserve the right to call her back onto the witness stand if need be."

"Members of the Wizengamot do any of _you_ have any questions for the witness," asked Shacklebolt, turning specifically look at Ignacious and Horatio. The two wizards had looked at each other and with a nod to Ignacious, Horatio stood.

"I have a couple of questions I'd like Miss Granger to answer," he said in a deep baritone voice.

Kingsley had nodded his head, giving Horatio permission to proceed.

"Miss Granger, you say that you were having lunch with Mr. Weasley at the time of your alleged abduction, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Is it true that you and Mr. Weasley were involved in an argument at that meeting?"

"No. It was a disagreement, nothing more."

"A disagreement," repeated Horatio. "You call it a 'disagreement' when your boyfriend confronts you about an affair you are having with another man?"

A murmur had begun to rumble through the room at Horatio's statement, but at Kingsley's glare, it soon quieted.

"Ron Weasley is my ex-boyfriend and Draco Malfoy is not another man, he is my fiancée." She could not believe his gall.

"And didn't you say that you were not feeling well that day? Feeling a bit light-headed," he had probed. "Could it be that you were a bit confused and maybe didn't even see who you thought you'd seen in the loo?"

Before she could answer Shacklebolt interrupted, " Horatio, is there a point to your questions? This doesn't seem to be relevant to this case."

"Kingsley, I'm merely trying to ascertain that Miss Granger could have been a bit confused about the events and the order in which they transpired."

"I know what I saw that day," Hermione was quickly losing her control. "I saw Gloria Angis and she hexed me, took me to that grimy room and along with those other witches, tortured me," she shouted. "I only know I came to bleeding and in pain. And I know that Draco saved me. I don't know what went on in that house after I was found, but I do know that every one of the aurors there were in danger because those women were all insane and didn't care who they hurt."

The reaction to her words had been instantaneous. The courtroom had exploded with shouting and accusations. The room was thrown into chaos, with witches and wizards all trying to talk at once. Kingsley Shacklebolt finally regained control by using the Sonorous and having some of the fallen witches' family members removed from the courtroom.

"Horatio, are you finished with your questions?" pleaded Shacklebolt.

"Not quite. Miss Granger, are you trying to imply that the murdered women were killed in self-defence rather than as an act of revenge on the part of Draco Malfoy?" Horatio Angis asked in disbelief.

Holding her head high, eyes on Draco, Hermione gave a one word answer. "Absolutely."

"Well forgive me for not holding the same belief," answered Angis. "I believe that the aurors there could have safely disabled the women and taken them into custody," he continued. "I further believe that the attack on the women by Mr. Malfoy was motivated by his attachment to you and," he turned and looked Draco in the eyes, "to your unborn child."

The silence in the room had been stifling. Draco's sneer had quickly turned to a look of disbelief as he jerked his eyes away from the wizard in front of him and searched Hermione's face for a confirmation that he had just heard a lie. When all he saw was the crushing sadness in her face, he had attempted to lunge at Horatio.

Hermione remembered the next moments as if it all happened in slow motion. Draco being hauled away as he tried to simultaneously injure Actis and reach her, Lucius trying to jump over the barrier to get to Draco, Narcissa calling out for Lucius and Harry rushing to her side. She seemed to lose her sense of hearing. Her entire being was focused on the deranged man being dragged away and when he was out of sight, she had given in to a dark abyss that allowed her to escape the pain she had seen in his eyes.

~*~*~

After all this time, they still had never been able to find out who had told Horatio Angis about her and Draco's baby. The Nobles had questioned Ron and the other aurors that had been in the house on that fateful day. They had been able to convey the condition of the room in which she had been held and the corridor she was found in. The Wizengamot was moved by Ron's account of the nightmare that he and Draco had walked into when they first came across Hermione's bloodied body in the hallway, because of this accounting, Draco was spared the death penalty and was given a sentence of life in Azkaban.

Draco had refused to talk to his parents or Hermione. The last time she had seen him was when they were pulling him out of the courtroom. He had refused all her correspondence. His only message to her had come from Harry, a one line missive.

_Remember your promise._

_Draco_


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer- Okay, again, I don't own Harry Potter, the characters, or anything dealing with it, it all belongs to the amazing ****J.K. Rowling****. Only the plot is mine.**

**_Author's Note- Is anyone still reading this? What can I say? I will not insult your intelligence by trying to give you excuses as to why I haven't updated. Let's just blame real life crap. For those of you who have stuck it out, thank you, you are truly my heroes, every single one of you._**__

_**There will be, most likely, one more chapter after this and a short epilogue.**___

**Chapter 14 – Going Home**

Brooms were not the only forms of transportation that she was terrified of; her fear included planes, and now she was seated in one, flying over the Atlantic Ocean . She was going home after three years. At the moment, she was not clear on what was scarier, flying or going back to Britain . Hermione knew that she would be bombarded with memories that could bring her to her knees.

She had kept her promise to Draco as best as she could. She had moved on, building a life without him. Was it cowardly to turn her back on life as she used to know it? Probably. Was she weak for staying away for so long? Definitely. The hard reality was that moving to California had been the only way she could retain some semblance of sanity. There was only so much you could ask of your heart before it became irreparable.

The past year had been the most carefree of her time in the United States . Her friendship with Michelle and her family had eased into something very close to what she had with the Weasleys. Even though it had started out as a joke, she _did _eventually take surfing lessons, but not from Shane, he refused to be responsible for something happening to her, he had gotten her a qualified instructor.

Josh was one of the few purebloods in the community, his family was one of the wealthiest wizarding families in the United States , but he took life one day at a time. He would never have fit in back home. His idea of work was to hang out at the beach as much as possible, living in a small beachfront cottage. The local teenage witches flocked to him for lessons because he was reputed to be the best in the area and the fact that he was gorgeous did not hurt either. His blue eyes, unruly sun bleached hair and lean tanned body were the epitome of a beach bum. The lines at the corners of his eyes showed that he was quick to laugh and near impossible to anger. Their lessons had quickly become something she looked forward to; his patience with her knew no bounds. After a few weeks, it had become apparent that the she would always be just a novice when it came to surfing, but she loved it nonetheless.

Because Josh was so easy to be around, Hermione had felt herself drawn to him. After some encouragement from Michelle, she had accepted his invitation to dinner and now they had been dating for a few months. She had been hesitant at first because she did not want to hurt him because he was also a good friend. He had assured her that he was aware that Hermione was unavailable for a long term relationship and that he was fine with that for now. So they began to spend more and more time together.

Their favourite thing to do was to scour flea markets for hidden finds. It had been after one of these treasure hunts that they had ended up at his beach house. As she sat out on the deck, on one of the teak wood chairs they had found earlier, watching him grill some salmon for dinner, she was mesmerized by the way his t-shirt stretched across his back, the muscles rippling and contracting as he moved. He was, to put it bluntly, beautiful. Without thinking, she had walked over to him and gently wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek on his back, breathing in his particular scent of clean citrus and the ocean. For several seconds she absorbed the warmth that radiated off him. It had been so long since she had been this close to a man and she realized that she really missed the companionship. Taking a deep breath, he had turned and enveloped her in his arms. Pressing his forehead to hers, he had wordlessly conveyed his uncertainty to her.

In that instant she knew that he was just as scared as she was and taking but a moment to consider what she was doing, she reached up, taking his face in her hands, she pressed her lips to his. He hesitated for an instant before slanting his lips against hers, taking everything she was offering and giving her all she asked for. In the back of her mind, she was aware that this was different, the burning desire she had felt for Draco had been like an inferno, consuming her until she felt she couldn't breathe. With Josh, the desire wasn't as intense, there was a sense of safety and comfort, as if this man had the ability to heal her, but he also had the ability to ignite the long-dormant need within her.

Giving in to those feelings allowed Hermione to let herself be drawn into him. His palm had crept under the hem of her shirt and was pressed against the small of her back, moulding her body to his, his teeth nipped at her lips, an insistent tongue demanded entrance and the soft moan slipping from her mouth quietly declared her surrender.

Hours later, as they lay on his bed, arms, legs and sheets a tangled mess, dinner was all but forgotten. As she twirled a strand of his sun-bleached hair, she felt his tentative touch on her breast. His tapered finger, tenderly traced the tattoo that was angrily glaring at him.

"Can you tell me about him?" his gentle inquiry. "I'll understand if you don't want to talk about it," he continued, "but it would be nice to know why this little guy looks as if he wants to torch me," he finished with a smile.

Hermione was instantly reminded of the time she had been in this exact position with Draco, asking him about his tattoo.

"No, it's not that I can't talk about it," she answered hesitantly, "but you may not want to hear it."

"I asked. I think I can handle it Hermione. If this," he motioned to the both of them with his hand, "is going anywhere, I'd like to know some basic stuff about you."

At the alarmed look on her face, he had quickly added, "Not that we have to pledge our undying love for one another, but you know…" he began, "Hermione, don't freak out on me. I'm sorry, never mind."

"Josh, no," quickly wrapping a sheet around her and sitting up, she stammered, "it's alright." Taking his hands in hers, kissing his knuckles, she said, "Please be patient with me," she had pleaded. "I don't know where this," she had mimicked his hand movements, "is going, but I do know that you are lovely and kind. I would very much like to see this through, if you want to."

The smile that broke across his face was answer enough. He had reached out and pulled her down on the bed again, rolling half of his body over her, he leaned and captured her lips with his. The kiss had been soft and gentle, a sweet promise of what the future could hold for them.

Josh was the first to pull away. After a quick kiss to her bare shoulder he quietly said, "There's nothing you could tell me of your past that would make me run away. I know a lot of what you lived through," he said. "Michelle and Shane have told me about Ron and Draco. Actually, Michelle told me most of it, as she threatened maim me if I hurt you," he said as he pushed her hair behind her ear. "She's kinda scary, for a muggle."

Hermione smiled, "Normally I would say that her bark is worse than her bite, but I think we can both agree that in Michelle's case, that is not true."

"Yeah, but I hope you also know that I would never intentionally harm you…you know that right?" he inquired.

Nodding, she said, "At this point, I'm more concerned about me doing something to hurt you. You've been so sweet, you deserve someone who can commit fully to you."

"Hermione, I'm a big boy. I've been taking care of myself for a long time and I know what I'm getting into," he said. "Look, we can just take this one day at a time, no strings and no expectations. What do you say? Won't you please tell me about him?" He pressed his forehead to hers, asking her to tell him the story behind the tattoo.

She tentatively started, "The story, as well as I can remember, goes something like this," she shifted her position so she was sitting up in bed with her legs folded in front of her and her hands on her laps. "They told you about Draco," she waited for his acknowledging nod.

"When I was working as an auror, Draco was assigned to me as my partner, he was my protector and when we fell in love, he took it to the next level. I thought we were going to be together forever, but fate stepped in and intervened, taking him out of my reach," she looked down at Josh, fearing he would be upset.

He perched himself up on one elbow, resting his head in his palm, he reached out his other hand and gently rubbed her thigh, "It's okay baby, I'm fine…I want to know."

"When the Wizengamot handed Draco their verdict, they sent him to Azkaban for forty years," she said softly. "I promised him that I would move on with my life, that I would forget about him. It was the only way that I could ensure that he would not go crazy worrying over me, but promising something and actually going through with it are two very different things Josh."

She continued hesitantly, "On the day he was taken away, a friend and I went out and got drunk…absolutely pissed," She timidly peered down at him and continued, "Josh, I gave a huge piece of my heart to Draco, and I don't think I'll ever be able to love like that again. This," she said, placing her hand over the tattoo, "is a reminder to everyone that I'm not whole anymore. This," she reiterated, "should be enough to make you run for your life Josh."

Before she knew what was going on, Josh had grabbed her, pulling her completely on top of him. "This," he said as he leaned forward and placed a kiss on the tattoo, "is proof that you know how to love. Why would that make me run? I can be a very patient wizard."

That had been six months ago and they were still together. Theirs was not a blazing romance, but it was comfortable and fulfilling for both of them. So the decision to invite Josh to go with her to George's wedding was an easy one. Having him by her side as they approached Heathrow Airport , squeezing her hand for support, meant a lot to her. She knew that everyone was going to like him, but she couldn't help feeling a little apprehensive about him meeting everyone.

"How are you doing? You okay?" he asked.

"It's a bit strange. Kind of like I have been gone for a lifetime and kind of like if I had never left at all, all at the same time," she answered. "I can't wait to see my friends, but I'm terrified that things will be too different now."

Josh gently squeezed her hand and said, "You're over-thinking this. Everything will be fine, your friends will welcome you with arms wide open and it will be as if you never left."

Before Hermione could answer they were instructed to get ready to disembark the plane. Walking hand in hand they exited and were greeted with a loud shriek from an overly excited redheaded witch.

"Hermiome! Oh my goodness!" Ginny cried as she launched herself at Hermione, throwing her arms around her friend in a fierce embrace, "I can't believe you're really here! I know we've been over to see you, but I never thought I'd see the day when you would come home," she continued. "Harry said that you would come but I had my doubts."

Pulling out of Ginny's hug, Hermione said "Of course I came, why wouldn't I?"

"Oh I know, I know. I shouldn't have doubted your commitment to George, but after the way things were when you left, I wouldn't have blamed you for wanting to stay away."

A smiling Harry stood back and watched with amusement as Hermione attempted to calm Ginny's enthusiasm down. After few moments he took pity on her and stepped in.

"Welcome home Hermione," he said as he gathered her up in his arms. Looking down into the face of his best friend he asked, "Are you going to introduce us to your friend?"

"Oh my! Yes. Sorry. Harry, Ginny, this is Josh, Josh, Harry and Ginny," Hermione said. She could feel a warm blush stealing up her neck to her face, "I can't believe I forgot to introduce you."

Josh chuckled and reached for Harry's hand. "It's good to finally meet you both. Hermione talks about you two all the time." Turning to Hermione, he leaned to her and whispered, "It's alright. I know that it's a bit overwhelming for you. Everything will be fine. Breathe Hermione."

When they looked up, Hermione saw Harry and Ginny exchange a strange look. Harry spoke first. "Josh. It's good to meet you. I was pleasantly surprised when Hermione called to say she was bringing a friend."

Ginny quickly added, "Yes. It is so good to see her looking so relaxed," and with a smirk she added, "and I'm certain that you are the reason for her new-found happiness."

"Ginny," warned Hermione.

"What? It's true. You look settled, tanned, fit. I can't even see the wrinkle that was permanently etched between your brows."

"I think that I _can_ take the credit for Hermione's new outlook on life," smiled Josh. Hermione looked at him as if he had grown another head. She knew what her friends were imagining, but Josh quickly interjected, "Surfing has a way of doing that to people."

Dead silence.

"Surfing! Hermione surfing?" came a shout from behind.

"George!" cried Hermione as she ran to him. "I didn't know you were here too."

George caught her and swung her around twice before setting her down. "Sweets, how could I stay away? And what is this rubbish about you surfing. Clearly this besotted fool is lying," he said as he turned to meet Josh. "George Weasley. You must be Josh."

"I would be," answered Josh. "And I have to say that Hermione here has definitely made great improvements with her surfing."

"No! Really?" Staring first at Hermione then at Josh. "Really? Who would have ever believed that?" said George looking back at Hermione in stunned disbelief.

"Your lack of confidence in me is truly insulting George Weasley," laughed Hermione, "insulting, but understandable," she finished with a laugh.

"All right then, we should get going," interrupted Harry. "We'll get your bags and head out. Molly is expecting us for dinner."

"No bags. Everything is in here," Josh lifted up his small knapsack. "I don't know how she did it, but she got it all to fit in here."

"We just need to stop by the hotel so we can check in. We're staying at the Kensington."

"Brilliant," said George. Flinging one arm around Hermione's shoulder and one around Josh's, he announced, "Let's go. Mum is waiting."

~*~*~*~*~

It was apparent that Molly had spent all day preparing the feast that lay in tatters on the table. Everyone sat back fully satiated with the abundance of food that had been presented to them. Hermione had been a bit apprehensive about going to Burrow for fear that she would see Ron, and she wasn't quite ready to face him yet, but in the end, all her worrying for naught as he wouldn't be there until the rehearsal dinner.

As she listened to the carefree conversations flying around her, Hermione felt a happiness to be home that she hadn't felt in years. The friendly banter between George and Josh over the differences between American and European quiditch teams; the gentle scolding of George by Angelina, to be nice, the loving reminder by Molly to Arthur that he had promised to help clean out the garden in preparation of the rehearsal dinner they were having in a couple of days, all of it reminded her why she loved these people so much, why it hurt to be separated from them.

The rest of the Weasley clan was expected the next day as well.

Hermione would not dwell on the fact that she would soon have to leave home again; she was determined to focus her time enjoying herself.

They had all been very accepting of Josh, never questioning her decision to bring him with her. Arthur had even offered them a spare room in the Burrow, but she assured him that they already had rooms in the city.

Molly was the greatest surprise of all. Hermione knew that she had been devastated by the end of her relationship with Ron. It had been Molly who had been the most upset by her involvement with Draco, but nonetheless she continually embraced Hermione as a daughter regardless of her own heartache. Her understanding could be traced all the way back to the day after the verdict was read. She had been there to console Hermione after losing not only the baby, but Draco as well.

Through out the evening Hermione tried to keep up with all of Molly and Angelina's plans for the next few days. They told her about the fittings with the seamstress, the flowers, the colour palette and the menu. Their constant chatter was making her head spin, but she felt nothing but happiness to be home.

After half an hour passed, she looked up to see Josh sitting at the table with George drinking a beer. The two wizards seemed to have moved their conversation from quiditch to American football. Hermione looked around to see that Ginny and Harry were standing by the fireplace having, what appeared to be, a hushed but heated discussion. Although she couldn't hear what they were saying, it was apparent that whatever it was, it was bothering Ginny. The redhead kept shaking her head and her brows were drawn together into a frown. Harry was trying to appease her when he looked up and saw Hermione's eyes on them. They abruptly stopped talking when they noticed Hermione's stare. Harry quietly cleared this throat, gave Ginny a pointed look, and walked over to join George and Josh in their discussion.

Ginny joined Hermione, Molly and Angelina. She turned her attention to the talk of fabrics and flowers, seeming to be completely absorbed in the planning, but Hermione got a feeling that it was nothing but an aversion tactic. Ginny and Harry were hiding something, of this Hermione was certain, but she could not remember a time in their lives that Harry and Ginny had held anything back from the family. She hoped that everything was well in their personal lives.

After a few more beers for Josh and a lot of arguing with Molly, it was well after midnight before they made it back to their hotel. The room was beautiful but Hermione was too emotionally and physically exhausted to appreciate anything other than a warm bath and the comfortable bed.

She thought over the events of the day, smiling at the memory of Josh and the boys' good natured bickering and the way Angelina's eyes lit up when she looked at George. Her friend was going to have an amazing life and he deserved it. No one had lost more than him in the war. She was also happy to see that Molly and Arthur were getting through the loss of Fred. The first few years after the war, they both struggled to get through the daily routine of just living and the breakup between her and Ron had nearly done them in.

As she lay in bed, Josh's arms wrapped around her, she listened to his quiet snoring. He had been out like a light as soon as his head had hit the pillow, not being used to drinking at all. It felt incredibly surreal to be here again. One of the reasons she had avoided returning to Britain was that she knew that just being here would bring back thoughts of Draco and she had been right. The very air she breathed seemed to hold memories for her.

It felt as if she were cheating on him and her whole being screamed at her to go to him, to beg for a chance to see him. Plead with whatever authorities she had to in order to once again be in his presence. But she knew that _he_ would never forgive her for that. She had made a promise to him and he expected her to keep it. Never could she have envisioned how hard it would be to keep her word. The heart that she believed to be on its way to being mended, quietly bled again and the pain took her breath away.

Even though it was late and she was tired, fighting against the melancholy was impossible. Hermione knew that, as understanding as Josh was, laying here with thoughts of Draco was completely unfair to him and she tried to push it to the back of her mind.

Then there was the tension she had sensed with Harry and Ginny. It would have been worrisome if she wasn't so sure of their love for one another. Whatever difficulty they were facing, she was certain that they would be able to work it out. With that thought, she allowed herself to drift off to a fitful sleep.

~*~*~

The next day passed in a flurry of activity. Hermione only saw Josh for breakfast and then she was off to run errands with Angelina and Ginny. Josh assured her that he would be fine on his own. Harry and George would be by later to collect him for lunch and take him on a tour of the Ministry. With a quick kiss to her cheek, he told her to go have girl time with her friends and they agreed to meet for dinner later.

Angelina had made an appointment for them to meet with the seamstress first thing in the morning so Hermione apparated to Diagon Alley right after saying goodbye to Josh. Walking along the cobblestone streets was refreshingly familiar to her. Thinking back to the first time she had been here, anxiously preparing for her first year at Hogwarts, her parents in complete awe of everything around them. Little had she known how drastically her life was about to change. Shaking her head to clear it of the memories, she concentrated on finding the little shop Ginny had told her about.

After being away for such a long time, Hermione was unaccustomed to the curious stares of those out and about. She was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the unwanted scrutiny. Witches and wizards alike seemed to be unable to stop looking at her and whispering to each other. Apparently they were astonished that "_the Hermione Granger"_ was back. She was beginning to get a bit creeped out, almost as if she were being followed, when a very excited Angelina stepped out of a quaint little shop at the end of the street.

"Finally! We were sure you'd overslept," she exclaimed. "Molly and Ginny are already here. Come on Hermione!" She was talking and dragging her at the same time.

After a quick look behind her and a shake of her head, Hermione smiled at the beautiful bride and followed her inside. Molly and Ginny were both clothed in beautiful robes as the assistants hurriedly made last minute adjustments. Ginny's jade robes were crafted of fine silk the same as Molly's taupe ones.

"Here she is," Molly said when she saw Hermione through the reflection of the mirror. "What do you think dear? I'm not sure about the color."

"I think you look positively beautiful Molly."

Ginny quickly agreed with her. "I told you mum. You will be a beautiful mother of the groom."

"Ginny your robes are gorgeous as well."

"Why thank you. The credit all goes to Angelina," she said as she continued to admire herself in the mirror. "She has basically obsessed over every minute detail for this wedding. Isn't that right?"

"Not really obsessed, necessarily, but I have to admit I've been a bit of a shrew when it comes to the wedding," Angelina sheepishly agreed. "But in my defense, I have been picturing my dream wedding since I was five, so all in all, I could have been much worse. I could have insisted on a unicorn drawn wagon."

"Thank you for saving us from that," laughed Ginny.

Hermione interjected, "As crazy as all this is," she gestured around her, " I'm ecstatic that you are getting your happily ever after Angelina. You and George deserve it."

The future Mrs. Weasley threw her arms around Hermione and whispered, "Thank you. I know you worry about him, but I want you to know that you don't have to fret any longer. I'll take good care of him."

When they pulled away, there were tears in both the young ladies eyes. Hermione silently acknowledged her acceptance of Angelina's reassurances.

The remainder of the day was spent finalizing last minute details. Hermione kept an eye out for any signs from Ginny that something was amiss, but she seemed as carefree as always. Maybe she had read too much into it. Certain that Harry and Ginny would confide in her if they needed to, she decided to leave it alone and not ask her about it.

The women decided to meet with the men for dinner. The pub was loud and crowded with a lot of the Ministry's employees. Harry, George, Josh and Arthur had been joined by some of Harry's co-workers. Some, like Dean and Seamus, were Hermione's friends as well, but the Ministry had hired quite a  
few Aurors in the time that she had been away and there were many new faces. Josh stood, walked over and wrapped her in an embrace as soon as he saw her walk in.

"Hey there beautiful," he said as he kissed her on the top of her head.

Resting her head on his chest she replied, "Hey yourself. How did it go? I hope you didn't miss me too much."

"I definitely missed you, but I had a great time exploring and Harry's tour of the Ministry of Magic was great." He continued to hold her against his chest as he spoke, " Did you know they have a department in there that is so secret, no one knows what it is in charge of?" He sounded like a five-year old in a candy store.

"I have heard that rumor," she chuckled. "What else did you do? Did you make it to the museum?"

"I was going to go but there was so much to see both, at the ministry and here in Diagon Alley, I preferred to look around here. How was your day?"

"Hectic," she laughed. "But so much fun. It was great to be with the girls again." Signaling to the group of men behind her she asked, "How about these guys? Are they treating you well?"

With a quick nod of his head he acknowledged they're acceptance of him. "They're all a bunch of good guys that really care about you. George is a bit on the psycho side but they've all been nothing but nice to me."

"Good," she said as she gave him a quick kiss, "now we should join them before they start to think you've passed on all your rude American ways to me."

This made Josh throw his head back with laughter. "Oh, now I'm a rude American am I?" He said as he took her hand to lead her to where the rest of their party was waiting to order their food.

Just as she turned to reassure him that she was only joking, a movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She jerked her head round as flash of blond hair quickly disappeared around the corridor leading to the kitchen. With a gasp she let pulled her hand away from Josh and walked in the direction the person had gone, but as she approached the hallway she heard the distinct sound of someone apparating.


	15. Chapter 15

**Not mine. All Ms. Rowlins'. Please read author note at the end. Completely Unbeta'd**

Chapter 15 – Dragon Dreams

_Just as she turned to reassure him that she was only joking, a movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She jerked her head round as flash of blond hair quickly disappeared around the corridor leading to the kitchen. With a gasp she let pulled her hand away from Josh and walked in the direction the person had gone, but as she approached the hallway she heard the distinct sound of someone apparating. _

As she stood there, her heart pounding in her chest, she felt as if she couldn't breathe. It couldn't be. He was in prison. Was she losing her mind?

"Hermione?" Josh's voice jolted her back. "What's wrong? What's going on?" His voice was thick with concern. "Hey, look at me. Is everything okay?"

Slowly, shaking her head she answered, "Nooo. Yes. Yes, I'm fine. Really. I thought," she paused, "I thought I saw someone I knew." She turned to him with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Honestly, I think I'm losing it in my old age."

"Are you sure? You look a little pale. We can leave if you're not feeling well," Josh asked as he carefully scrutinized her face.

"Don't be silly. I'm fine. Let's go back." She walked back the way she had come, turning back when she noticed that he wasn't following.

"Honestly. I'm fine." She encouraged.

He gave her a long look before nodding his head and following her back to their group.

Although it was wonderful to be home, the whole night felt off. She couldn't lose the feeling that something was going to happen. The whole incident from earlier had left her shaken and a bit off balance. In all probability, it was just a case of wishful thinking. Her mind had to have been playing tricks on her. She should have known this would happen. With a heavy sigh, she forced herself to push it to the back of her mind and try to enjoy the evening.

The night turned out to be an opportunity to catch up with old friends and acquaintances. Throughout the evening Hermione attempted to relax and reconnect with people she hadn't seen in years. Dean and Seamus were both there as well as Luna. They sat and reminisced over all the craziness that had been their lives during and immediately following the war. Josh sat and listened to the stories with a look of awe as they recounted all the missions they had gone on.

"Hermione Granger?" For a moment Hermione didn't recognize the witch that was calling her name from the next table. It took a moment for it to dawn on her that it was Belinda Pennington, Kingsley's secretary. Although Belinda had always been pretty, she had obviously had a major make-over. The result was a beautiful woman who was much surer of herself than what Hermione remembered. When Hermione smiled Belinda excused herself from her companions to go over and talk to her.

Standing next to an empty seat at their table Belinda enthused, "Wow! I can't believe it. It is so good to see you."

Hermione stood and gave her a warm embrace "Belinda. It's been such a long time. Look at you. You seem to be turning back the hands of time."

"Not quite," Belinda said with a laugh. "Thank you though. Sitting behind a desk for eight hours a day doesn't do anything for a girl's figure so I started exercising and taking a bit more interest in my health and now I feel great." She then added, "I could say the same for you. The California sun seems to agree with you because you look gorgeous."

"Thank you. It took a bit of getting used to the mostly constant sunshine. The first time I sunbathed I went home looking and feeling like a boiled lobster." Hermione giggled as she recalled the painful lesson she learned that day. "So are you still working at the Ministry?"

"Yes, I'm still there," answered Belinda with a smile. "Mr. Shacklebolt is a wonderful boss and my job entails so many different duties that I don't get bored. Oh, and I've just purchased my first home.

"That's great," exclaimed Hermione. "That is wonderful news."

"Don't think that it is a huge place. Believe me, it's tiny but I'm really enjoying fixing it up." There was a look of unadulterated pride on her face as she spoke of her new home.

Hermione agreed, "I know what you mean. I enjoyed fixing up my house in California. There's something therapeutic about putting in some hard work and sweat into your own place."

As they chatted about all the ups and downs of fixing up a house, they were interrupted by a discreet clearing of a throat. Hermione quickly realized that she had failed to introduce Josh.

With a faint blush she exclaimed, "Oh my. I'm sorry Josh. Belinda, this is Josh, Josh this is Belinda. She works at the Ministry," she clarified for him.

"Pleased to meet you," he said as he took Belinda's hand. "I spent some time there earlier today and it seems like a great place to work."

"It's a super place to work. Maybe you can come by sometime next week and I'll give you the grand tour," Belinda answered. "You too Hermione, you can come too, but you already know the place inside and out. Never mind. I guess you could give it to him yourself, the tour I mean. Um, yeah." Belinda trailed off.

Hermione stared at her former co-worker in confusion. The normally composed witch was babbling. What had gotten her all worked up? The answer came to her as soon as she saw the smitten look on Belinda's face as she looked at Josh. Josh, completely oblivious to the young woman's reaction to his good looks, seemed a bit frightened by her outburst.

"Well then," Hermione said, trying to smooth things over, "I'm not certain we'll be able to make it out to the Ministry next week. We will only be here for a few days, but thank you for the lovely offer." With a devilish smirk she turned to Josh and added, "Unless you want to go Josh, I'm sure I can tie up all my business alone if you want the grand tour."

"Nope. I think I saw it all today," he said, not taking his eyes off Hermione. "But thank you just the same," he said to Belinda.

"Of course. I should have realized you would have things to do," the flustered witch said. They spoke for a few more awkward moments before Belinda excused herself telling Hermione she would see them at the wedding.

After she had walked away Hermione and Josh looked at each other, trying not to giggle. "It's not funny," she gasped. "I know," he answered, "but what was that all about?"

With an exasperated sigh Hermione complained, "Men are so dense sometimes."

It was just a little after ten when the impromptu party broke up and Hermione and Josh returned to their room. There was so much to do the next day including the rehearsal dinner at the Burrow. Merely thinking about the dinner made Hermione nervous because she knew that Ron would be there and there would be no avoiding him. In all honesty, it was time; time for them to settle things between them. In view of the depth of the relationship they had shared, both as friends and lovers, they owed it to themselves to find a way to remain in each other's lives.

Quietly getting out of bed, she wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and stood by the window contemplating. The flash of blonde she'd seen earlier in the pub couldn't possibly be him, but nevertheless, he was now first and foremost in her mind. After all the time that had passed, it would seem that the pain would have faded, and it had, back in California, but here, now, her heart was screaming for him. Her arms burned to hold again. Wrapping her arms around herself, she tried to hold it together. She couldn't lose it now. She had to think about Josh and where this relationship was heading, because she was absolutely convinced that she would never be a hundred percent emotionally available to him. He deserved better.

Draco. Ron.

Josh.

It was too much to take in and it was exactly as she feared. Damn it. Why did her life have to be so complicated? Just as she was feeling settled it seemed as if everything was spinning out of her control.

A gentle squeeze of her shoulders startled her out of her reverie. Josh pulled her back against his chest as he hugged her to his body.

"Hey. Sorry, I didn't meant scare you. Whatcha doing?" he whispered into her ear.

"I couldn't sleep so I've been sitting here thinking about everything we have to do tomorrow."

"Is everything alright? You've been distant since the pub. I know it's more than the wedding," he said. "What's going on, talk to me Hermione."

Turning around in his arms, she laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes. Willing away the pain that she was about to cause him. She couldn't speak. Literally. Her throat closed up and refused to budge. Soon all she could do was gasp for breath, she realized she was having a full-blown panic attack and had no way of controlling it.

Taking her by the shoulders, Josh steered her toward the chair in the corner and knelt in front of her.

"Breathe baby. Listen to me," he tilted her face toward him. "Take slow deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. That's it babe. Nice and slow."

When she had begun to calm down a bit he lifted her up, sitting on the chair, he repositioned her onto his lap. He rocked her in silence, rubbing soothing circles on her back as he continued to murmur shushing sounds.

When he spoke it was with a firm determination. "I see you slipping away from me. I feel your distance and your doubts. No, hush," he said, pinching her lips together when she started to interrupt him. "Hermione, I need you to know one thing," he continued, "these past months with you have been some of the best of my life, but I can't be another stress in your life. I only want what's best for you. I know that I have rushed you when you weren't ready but I wouldn't take it back for the world either."

She looked up at him with tearful eyes, trying to convey to him what he meant to her, "Don't Josh," she softly said. "We both know that this isn't your fault. This…this mess is all me."

"No, it's no one's fault. Look, I knew going into this that we were living just for the moment. I knew that you could walk away at any time. I took the chance and I don't regret it, but at this point, I can still walk away with my heart somewhat intact." Looking down at her he said, "I need for you to talk to me. I don't want to lose what we have, but you've got to give me something to work with here."

"I'm not going anywhere Josh. I'm here." Her eyes pleading, "Why are you determined to end this?"

"I don't! I don't want to end this!" He was tugging at his hair. "But I asked you if there was anything wrong and it was enough to trigger a panic attack Hermione. That kind of tells me there's something that you're hiding and I'm left to imagine the worst."

Hermione stood up and took a few steps before turning back to Josh. "It feels so strange being back here," she began, "that I can't seem to get my bearings."

"I can see that how that would be the case, hell, we even talked about that before we came here," he answered "but I guess I just didn't think that it would be this bad."

"I hate this, you have to believe me when I say that," She emphasized. "I believed I was doing fine, but then tonight...the pub…the hair, well, it just got me wallowing in memories that do more harm than good," she trailed off.

"Hermione," now Josh was standing up as well, "What about the pub? What hair? I don't understand."

"There was someone at the pub that reminded me of Draco. I only caught a glimpse of…something…." She explained. "But when I looked again, they were gone. I don't know," she continued, "It sort of threw me off and now I can't stop thinking about it, about him."

Taking her hands he leaned down, "You know that it is impossible, right?"

"I do! But there is a big difference between what I know and what my heart wants. What if my heart never gives up hope? What if I never stop seeing him in dark corners or dimly lit restaurants? The problem is that as long as there is a sliver of hope in my heart, a smidgen of a belief that he'll return to me, anytime I'm with you, I feel as if I'm being unfaithful and I can't make any kind of a commitment. And don't think that I'm not aware of how wishy-washy I'm being, because I am very aware of it. None of this is fair to you," she exclaimed wide-eyed. "First I say I want to be with you, and then I spout off about how I can't get over Draco, then I beg you not to go. What's wrong with me?"

Wringing her hands she continued, 'And then there's the whole 'Ron' situation. I'm ready to tell him that I've forgiven him but I have no idea how tomorrow's meeting will go. What if he starts shouting, like he always does? I know I only shout back and we'll be back where we started. I do know that I miss my friend and I want him back in my life. But what if he doesn't feel the same way? What if he doesn't have room for me in his life? What if he can't forgive me for running away? Then what?" Not even aware that she was rambling. "Do I go back to America and forget about him?"

"Hermione, whoa! You need to calm the fuck down," he chuckled.

"Josh, how can you laugh at a time like this? These isn't anything funny about this, it's a disaster! Don't' you see?"

"I see you getting worked up over nothing." At her scowl, he quickly amended, "Alright, it's not 'nothing', but you still need to calm down so we can talk about this before you make yourself sick. C'mon, let's sit."

"Listen to me," he said. "Here's what we're going to do. We're going to take things slowly for now. We'll go to the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. No strings attached," his eyes never left hers. "No pressure to break things off or to continue them as they've been. We will attend as 'friends' and when it's all over, when the bride and groom are on their way, after you've cleared things up with Ron, when we get back home, we'll take a hard look at us, and see where we go from there."

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed, holding his hands on her lap as he knelt on the floor in front of her, a million thoughts racing through her brain. She could not wrap her mind around what he was saying. How could he be okay with this? But the foremost thought was "how can I take the chance of losing this great guy? Followed a close second by "why does everything in my life always have to be so damn complicated?"

Josh, fairly confident that she had calmed down, remained silent, letting her ruminate over their situation.

"I don't know what to say," she whispered. "Are you certain that this is what you want Josh? Can we do this?"

"I think we owe it to ourselves to step back and really analyze our relationship. I believe we're at a point where we can say that no matter what, we will always be in each other's lives," he reached up and brushed away a tear that had just fallen from her mournful eye. "No tears, Hermione. No more tears. We'll be okay, you'll see."

She could only nod her head and continue to softly sob.

_She can hear it snarling, the stench of its rancid breath sears her senses. It continues to bear down on her. Her own breath is more like a wheezing pant, rushing through her throat and out her nostrils in a frightened frenzy. The pain in her side is matched only by the torturous pounding of her heart. The cold is numbing. The Burrow is only a few meters away, if she can only get out of the woods and into the clearing she will be fine, just a little further. The breaking twigs and branches that cut her feet do not stop her; Molly will tend to her injuries, if only she can get to her. Where the hell is her wand? Why doesn't she have her wand? She can't figure it out, she has no time to ponder what has happened to it. _

_It's at her heels, growling, blasts of saliva spray her neck sending rivulets of spit trailing down her spine. The crippling fear that seizes her causes her feet to stumble, the unforgiving ground tears at her knees and palms. Too frightened to move, she mindlessly curls into a small ball awaiting her fate. Many seconds pass, the only sound she hears over the rush of blood to her brain is an ominous rumble and the scrape of hooves near her head. She cautiously looks up and emits a strangled gasp as she sees the dragon only inches from her face. She rips her gaze from its fangs only to have them meet its brutal flint-hued eyes. The beast's rumbling has changed to a menacingly loud snarl and Hermione's whimpers instantly morph into blood-curdling shrieks. _

"_Hermione!" _

_Someone is coming. They'll help. _

"_Hermione!" _

_Josh? _

_Where is he?_

"_Josh!" _

"_I'm here baby. Hermione wake up. Wake up!" _

The Burrow was buzzing with activity when Hermione and Josh arrived for the rehearsal dinner. The tables were set up in no particular pattern in the garden. Family and friends mingled as they waited for the food to be served. The atmosphere was easy and jovial. Hermione spotted Angelina sitting at a table talking to a small, wiry witch with flamboyant robes. The purple, red, gold and green satin that the her robes were made of shone in the early moonlight. Standing behind Angelina was George. His hand on her shoulder as he listened to something his father was saying. The two of them were completely aware of the other even though they were involved in conversations with other people. It was so wonderful to see the connection they shared, everyone there could sense the rightness of this union.

Even though Hermione knew almost everyone there, she was still feeling very anxious. The nightmare she had awoken from had frightened her. It was a new one, she had never dreamt of that dragon before and she no idea what the root of the dream was. To make matters worse, Ron was going to be here. The knot that had been forming in her stomach clenched even tighter as she scanned the gathering, looking for the familiar face that had been absent from her life for so long. Holding on to Josh's hand helped keep her grounded, but the uneasy feeling that had begun the night before at the pub continued to increase her inexplicable feelings of disquiet.

Looking around it was easy to see that George and Angelina had kept in touch with many of the people they went to school with, as well as the professors. Ginny had mentioned that Professor McGonagall was in Scotland with a sister that was ill and would not be attending, but Professor Trelawney and Professor Flitwick were both sitting at a table with Hagrid.

"Come on Josh." she said with a smile as she started walking toward the table where her former teachers sat. "There are a few people I want you to meet."

"Oho! Hermione Granger!," Hagrid was in his feet as soon as he spotted her approaching. "Blimey, Hermione, it has been entirely too long young lady." Before she knew what was happening, she was engulfed in a warm embrace from the gentle giant.

"Hagrid. It's so good to see you again," she murmured against his massive chest. Pulling away she motioned for Josh to join her. To his credit, Josh seemed very at ease as he approached them. There was no sign of nervousness as he neared the large man and Hermione.

"Josh," she said, fairly bouncing with excitement, as she grabbed his hand and pulled him forward, "this is Hagrid, Hagrid, this is Josh."

Hagrid's smile stretched from ear to ear as he shook Josh's hand, but before the two of them could exchange any words there was a commotion from the house. She heard him before she saw him. His bellow of outrage which poured from the open window crashed into her with a physical force.

He loudly interrogated, "Bloody hell Harry! What do you mean you're doing it for the greater good? What the fuck does that even mean!"

An eerie silence descended on the gathering. No knew what to do, but a hushed murmur began to build as the guests went back to their previous conversations. The voices inside the house quieted as well.

She recognized the voice immediately. That voice had been the source of whispers of love in her ears and shouts of rejection in her face.

"Ron." Hermione's voice rushed out in a quiet murmur.

Ron was here.

Ron was furious at someone.

After years of being by his side, first as a friend, later as a lover, she could gauge the level of anger he was at and by the sound of his voice she was extremely happy she was not on the receiving end of his ire.

"Excuse me Hagrid," she said turning toward the house. "I'll be right back."

She hadn't taken more than a couple of steps when she was pulled back from her waist. "Wait up. What the hell do you think you're doing? It sounds like there's a bear loose in there," Josh told her. There was suddenly a deep furrow between his brows, a clear indication that he was not happy.

"It'll be fine. I'm just going to see if everything is okay," she said as she attempted to walk away again, only to be brought back once more.

"Easy there Tiger. How 'bout we both go."

"Honestly Josh," she began exasperatedly, but he didn't let her finish. "I thought you wanted me to meet Ron," he said. "Have you changed your mind?"

"Of course not," she quickly answered. "I was merely going to assess the situation before I dragged you into it."

"Well, I can handle anything you can so let's go," he said as he grabbed her hand and led her to the back door of the cottage. With her heart pounding, she followed him, only to be joined by George. The expression on his face was one of carefully contained fury.

"He better not ruin this for Angelina," he hissed at Hermione.

**AN: Okay, I'm so happy to be back! I hope I still have some readers left, but honestly, I'm writing again in order to regain some normalcy in my life. After being married to my very own "Draco" for thirty two years, I lost him in October. The loss of my soul mate made it impossible for me to produce anything as far as fanfiction. It has even been hard for me to read, a lifelong passion. But when I sat at my keyboard last night and started plugging away, it felt so right.**

**Most of this chapter has been done for months. I finished it and have about a thousand words written for the next chapter.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer- Okay, again, I don't own Harry Potter, the characters, or anything dealing with it, it all belongs to the amazing ****J.K. Rowling****. Only the plot is mine.**

I'm still trying to get the hang of this again. Please be patient. This chapter is a lot shorter than any of the others, and I thought about making it longer, but it just felt right to end it where I did. I'm pretty sure you are ready to see _**him**_ after his absence, I know I was.

Unbeta'd

**Dragon Awaking **

_**Two months earlier….**_

drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip…..

It is impossible for him to keep track of time; it seems as if he is in a time warp. Nothing has changed. Time stands so still that sometimes it seems as if no time has passed at all, but he knows that is just wishful thinking. _Too much_ time has passed. Months, years, lifetimes have slipped through the windows of time since he came here.

His legacy was once one of opulence and advantage, hailing from a long line of majestically proud pure-bloods. But that life is a distant and dim memory. Attempting to recall his previous life is like trying to catch smoke in his hands.

Now his heritage is one of squalor and pestilence. He has dined in grand mansions, eaten off the finest china, and imbibed the most coveted wines. He and his friends, witches and wizards from affluent and wealthy families, had viewed their lifestyle as a right not a privilege.

Now he slurps his meals from a tin bowl whilst sitting on the cold floor with a cup of water as his only beverage. The only companions he has are of the four-legged variety, the ones who valiantly attempt to take his meager portions.

His once strong and lithe body shows the evidence of numerable beatings and lack of proper nourishment, but the scars that hurt the most are not visible to any eye. His piercing eyes, the bits of flint that peer out through the inflamed lids, are all that remain unchanged. The glint in them is the only indication that the man behind the battered flesh is not completely dead. The steely glare has always been enough to keep all the inmates away from him and enough to make nearly all the guards give him a wide berth. **Nearly all**.

One hundred sixty three. Two more than yesterday. Nine more than last week. Pretty soon the entire ceiling will be covered in cracks. The pungent moisture that seeps through the plaster, the cause of the insufferable dripping that harmonizes with his rampant thoughts, will eventually cause the whole thing to come down on his head. The sooner that happens the better it will be for him. The dim lighting provided by the quickly disappearing candle on the wall is the closest thing to sunlight he has seen in…? Was it a month since he was been put in isolation? Two? Maybe it was longer.

Lying on the tattered rag that passed as a bed, he attempts to remember. It was a Tuesday when he broke the guard's nose. He knows this because they had been allowed to exercise in the yard and that only happens on Tuesdays, but which Tuesday? The days all bleed together in this place.

That asshole Marcelo had been relentless with his fucking remarks about what should be done to former Death Eaters and their families. Months of his random assaults, months of listening to him laugh as he described the damage he could do if they really left him alone in a room with him.

Marcelo may have been saved a trip to the hospital if only he had not made the mistake of giving a graphic narrative of what he would do if he was locked in a room with this former Death Eater's mother. The bloody git didn't know what hit him. Asshole. It was worth the thrashing Marcelo's mates had given him before tossing him into this tiny, forgotten corner of Azkaban. Each blow he had received from their boots, fists or clubs had brought him closer to the end, and he knows his days are numbered. He feels his body giving up.

He is certain that they cracked a rib or two because any attempt he makes to move causes pain to reverberate through his entire body. Whatever damage they've done has caused an infection somewhere because he feels the fever; it's as if he is on fire. It would be cause for concern if he cared about his own well-being, but the truth is that death would be a welcome relief and an end to his anguish.

On his makeshift bed he fights to keep from sleeping. Sleep brings dreams. Dreams bring her, and she is too good to be in this hell hole, even if it is just in his head. Every night the same struggle, the same results. He sleeps and dreams of her. Her unruly mane spread over satin pillows, her delicate fingers caressing his face, her caramel eyes beseeching him to stay. Vivid dreams that allow him to smell the fragrance of her skin. The dreams are beautifully torturous because he inevitably has to wake up and lose her all over again. Each awakening is more painful than the last. That is why he continues this battle against unconsciousness, but sleep is always the victor and it is not any different today. Before long, the tightening tendons of slumber pull him in tighter than ever before.

The dreams are jumbled, an array of colors and pain. He can't find her. Her voice seems to be coming from a great distance. He knows that his mind is playing tricks on him because she can't be here, he has died and gone to hell for his sins, there is no escape from the inferno. Flames are licking at his heels. Heat and pain are his constant companions.

There she is…he can see her through the veils. Why won't she come to him? Oh Merlin! She's fading. Where has his voice gone? Why can't he call to her?

Never has there been a darker night, a darkness that makes his breath catch and his chest hurt. His heart anxiously pounds to a cadence set by the pulsing pain wracking his entire being. What kind of poison is ripping through his body? Who has done this to him? Is she safe? Has she been harmed as well? The more he tries to struggle against the sinews that hold him in this void, the greater the aches he feels to his very core.

Ahhh…that's it. Something fresh and soothing is cooling him down, and there's a new scent. Is that his mother's perfume? Oh how he wishes he could see her once more. Where is he? Heaven? No, not heaven, heaven wouldn't permit the pain that is still residing in his body. Wherever he is, he wants to stay. That is his last clear thought before drifting away again.

The voices are back. They never make any sense and trying to understand them makes his head hurt enough to allow himself to sink back into the abyss.

There are voices.

"It seems as if he's stirring again," someone is saying. "Shall I summon the healer?"

The shuffling of feet sound like a stampede running through his head. Why won't his eyes open?

"She's on her way," whispers another, but before "she" comes, darkness claims him again.

Her laughter resonates in his chest; the sound is like a beautiful melody that conjures up memories of a happier time. He can see her just ahead of him, her hair whipping back as she whizzes ahead of him on her broom, no sign of her fear of flying. His seeker skills are being tested, he should be able to easily catch her but she manages to elude him at the last second. Faster and faster he goes, until she is right there, right at his finger tips. Turning her head, she rewards him with her beautiful smile, eyes filled with confidence that he will catch her, she reaches her arms out to him and lunges from her broom…

"Mr. Malfoy? Draco? Can you hear me?" an annoyingly persistent voice abruptly pulls him from his beautiful vision. A white-hot rage courses through his mangled nervous system. He wants nothing more than to be left alone to return to the dream he was wrenched from, but cool fingers pry his eyelids open. He is prevented from seeing who it is by the blinding light searing his pupils. His attempt at struggling is pathetic at best and not worth the blistering pain that explodes in his head.

"Draco, you need to calm down," a familiar voice says. "You must let Healer Conroy do her job. Can he hear me?"

"I'm sure he can. See how he's stopped resisting," replies the first voice.

This is some kind of crazy dream. Why is he dreaming of her? Maybe he should try opening his eyes again. Using all the strength he possesses, Draco forces his weighty eyelids open. It only takes a moment for the cobwebs to lift, his vision to return. The first thing he notices are the pristine white walls, certainly not in his cell then. His suspicion is cemented when his sense of smell relays the lack of mold and mildew to his brain. With great trepidation he tilts his head to the side, barely suppressing an aggravated growl when he sees her. Her green eyes look concerned, as if she is afraid of what he will do.

"Draco."

His throat feels as if it is being scoured with sand paper as he responds with a hint of his former glibness, "Weaslette."


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer-****Okay, ****again, ****I ****don't ****own ****Harry****Potter, ****the****characters,****or ****anything****d ealing ****with ****it, ****it ****all ****belongs ****to ****the ****amazing ****J.K. ****Rowling****. ****Only ****the ****plot ****is ****mine.**

**I****'****m ****soo ****sorry! ****I ****hope ****you****'****re ****still ****with ****me.**

Chapter 17-Losing Her Again

_This is some kind of crazy dream. Why is he dreaming of her? Maybe he should try opening his eyes again. Using all the strength he possesses, Draco forces his weighty eyelids open. It only takes a moment for the cobwebs to lift, his vision to return. The first thing he notices is the pristine white walls, certainly not in his cell then. His suspicion is cemented when his sense of smell relays the lack of mold and mildew to his brain. With great trepidation he tilts his head to the side, barely suppressing an aggravated growl when he sees her. Her green eyes look concerned, as if she is afraid of what he will do. _

"_Draco." _

_His throat feels as if it is being scoured with sand paper as he responds with a hint of his former glibness, "Weaslette."_

A week after waking up in Montrose, the Ministry of Magic's medical compound for personnel, Draco was still struggling to come to terms with his situation. The existence of this hospital was a closely guarded secret and he had never been sure if it even existed until now. The multi-level building was nestled in a lush green valley surrounded by trees and protected by charms.

After all the time he had spent in Azkaban it was difficult for him to accept the change in his circumstances. Being able to sit up, even if it was in a wheelchair, was a pleasant change from being in the hospital bed he had been confined to before. Seven days later it seemed like a lifetime since he had woken up to see Harry Potter's wife standing next to his bed. Remembering their conversation still gave him a headache.

"_It's good to see that some things haven't changed Malfoy," Ginny replied. _

_He was certain that he was delusional. How else could he explain lying in a bed, talking to Harry Potter's wife?_

"_Although I always thought you were a bit delusional whilst we were at school, I can assure you that you aren't at the moment," Ginny affirmed, proving that he had spoken his thoughts aloud._

_His eyes must have shown his confusion because her teasing tone quickly turned serious. "I know you must have a loads of questions, and I promise that we'll get to all of those soon," she assured him, "but for the time being you need to concentrate on doing what the healers ask of you,"_

_Shifting to his side, "I assure you," his unused voice still like gravel, "that I will do whatever is asked of me, after you tell what the hell is going on." His face contorted with the pain his outburst caused._

"_Mr. Malfoy, please try not to move too much. The bones have not completely mended yet," explained the healer._

"_Draco, lie still. Harry will be here soon and we'll…" Ginny was interrupted by the opening of the door._

"_Well, well, well. Look who has decided to join the land of the living again," Harry said as he strolled into the room._

_His former boss, with his unkempt hair and spectacles slightly askew, walked into the room and pulled up a chair next to his bed. His smile not quite reaching his eyes, "how do you feel Draco?" he asked._

_He felt an unexpected sense of security with Harry in the room. How long had it been since he had felt safe? He couldn't even remember. The pain that resided in his body was nothing compared to the looming despair he had been so close to submitting to at Azkaban._

"_It feels as if I've been through a meat grinder," he painfully whispered. "There aren't many parts of my body that don't ache, but I'm about one thousand percent better off than I was a week ago."_

"_That's not hard to believe," Harry chuckled. "I hope that you're willing to behave yourself long enough for your body to mend. There are some things that I'm certain you will want to be made aware of," he'd continued, "but I have to make sure that you are up to par." _

"_Since when do I get the 'kid glove' treatment Potter?"_

_Harry looked a bit put off but answered anyway, "Since your mother threatened to disembowel me if I compromised your recovery." The look that Harry directed at him indicated that he whole-heartedly believed Narcissa's warning._

_The sound of a door opening and a gentle disturbance of the air around the room signaled the arrival of someone._

"_A lady never resorts to physical violence, Mr. Potter. I merely asked that you take care of my son." With all the grace of Malfoys past, Narcissa walked across the room and went directly to her son's side. _

"_Darling, I'm so pleased to see you awake."_

_The beautiful woman, the one whose honor he had valiantly fought for was looking at him with concern and adoration. Her soft hands pushed back his hair then wandered down to his scruffy cheeks. She was clearly drinking in the sight of a son she hadn't seen in too long. In that moment he realized that every blow had been worth it and he would willingly do it again if need be._

_Closing his eyes he absorbed the love she was conveying to him, "Mother, its good to see you."_

"_Mrs. Malfoy," Ginny interrupted, "it may have been a bit more than that. My husband came home fairly pale last evening after his conversation with you."_

"_Nonsense," Narcissa had waved off the suggestion. "Now what is this I hear that you are not doing as the healers tell you to?" she gently questioned Draco._

From that point on it had been a flurry of questions and answers between his mother, the Potters and the healer. They all converged around Draco and before he knew it, he had drifted off to sleep with a million unasked questions locked in his head.

Some time later, he awoke to the strangest sight yet. Lucius Malfoy was sitting in a chair next to his bed wearing a pair of spectacles and reading a copy of the Quibbler. The elder Malfoy was quite engrossed in whatever story had captured his attention.

"Father?"

"Draco! Son, you're awake. Let me call the healer," Lucius was rolling up the newspaper, ready to go get help, but Draco put his hand on his forearm, stopping his father from leaving, "Don't go. Stay and talk to me."

Looking down at his son, Lucius knew that there was nothing that Draco could ask of him that he would not do for him. Sitting back down, he smiled at his heir.

"You look much better than when they brought you in and I must say that you are a sight for these tired old eyes," Lucius said.

Draco's smirk was evidence that he was indeed feeling much better. "Bullocks. Sorry father but I hope you are not trying to get me to believe that _you_ believe you're old," he laughed.

Lucius' sheepish grin proved that his attempt at humility had failed miserably, "I never said I was old, just my eyes," he hedged. Both wizards looked at each other for a few seconds before succumbing to joyous laugher. Father leaned in and embraced the son he had longed for and the son clung to man who had been his safe harbor for most of his life.

In the end, it was his father who told him the tale of how he had come to be in the hospital and the reason that he would, with some stipulations, be a free man again.

It seems that Kingsley was contacted by Edward Drake, the warden of Azkaban. Drake had voiced concern about the integrity of some of those in his command, particularly Marcelo Brigiatto, Lucas Moray, and a new guard by the name of Horatio Moncleve. He had a substantial number of prisoners making complaints against the three half-blood wizards, complaints that ranged from harassment to physical violence. The problem lay in the fact that all three guards denied the allegations, never doing anything in the presence of others. It was their word against the word of known criminals.

Draco's skin crawled at the mention of the three men who caused him so much pain and anguish. He knew that if he had the means to punish them for the poisonous words they had spewed about his parents, the relentless taunts that they spit out in his presence, he would make them each pay for their bigotry with the same kind of pain that they had inflicted on him when he had finally broken and tried to attack.

After being assigned to the case, a new auror, Marty McMillan, had placed a few simple charms around the cells in Azkaban. Only a couple of hours into the investigation the alarms of the charms were activated, showing the guards beating a female prisoner in her cell. The viciousness of the assault was enough to paralyze Auror McMillan, but once he regained his composure he'd summoned Harry and Seamus. Together they apprehended the guards.

After the three men were arrested, the Ministry began reviewing the numerous files regarding the complaints. This was understandably a time-consuming process, weeding out the most heinous of occurrences from the lesser cases of verbal abuse.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was trying to be very thorough, bringing in all the victims for questioning, to get the story straight from their mouths. It was during one such interview that they had learned about the beating and subsequent removal of Draco Malfoy from the general population.

Everyone in the department knew the story behind their former co-worker's arrest and incarceration. They were all aware of the fact that each one of them could conceivably lose their control one day with the same results as Malfoy, losing their cool and their freedom in one fell swoop.

The story McMillan heard from a small, bony inmate by the name of Calvin Leadman, made him queasy and extremely uneasy. When he heard the way Leadman had been startled awake by a loud ruckus in the cell next to his, the dull thuds he heard, the vicious laughter that came from the guards, the clear sound of bones breaking, agonized moans and the distinct sound of someone being dragged away, the hairs on the back of his head stood on end.

The problem was that no one knew what day that had been. There was no way of knowing how long Draco had been in solitary or how badly he had been hurt. The cell that he had been taken to was heavily protected with charms that the three guards had placed on it. The men refused to tell the aurors where they had taken Draco, denying that they even knew anything about him being taken away. As a last attempt to find him, Harry had approached the Malfoys, asking their help in finding their son.

Lucius' eyes shone with pride as he explained the way Narcissa had located him.

When Potter arrived at the manor unannounced we were initially surprised at his appearance. He seemed more disheveled than usual. Without any attention to formalities he began to explain the reason for his visit. When he finished his story I turned to look at Cissy and I had never been more grateful to not have her as an enemy. With a fierce determination she turned to Harry and told him that there were no charms strong enough to keep the blood in her veins from finding a son that carried the same blood. We immediately apparated to Azkaban and within twenty minutes you were in her arms. It was **she** that arranged for you to have the best healers, it was **she** that kept me from going crazy when I saw the condition you were in, and it was **she** who made the deal with the ministry to keep you out of prison. She told them that they would set you free and she would not destroy the entire ministry hierarchy for the maltreatment you had received. They agreed. Damn proud of that woman, scared of her, but damn proud.

**~Twice Loved~**

That had been a week ago and Draco was still trying to wrap his head around the whole thing. All the happiness that he should feel at being released was tempered by the fact that it seemed to be an empty future that he was looking at. He had asked to see Harry today.

The sun was beginning to set. The view from his window was clothed in muted pinks, golds and purples. The light filtering through the trees reminded him of the view he'd had at home. Today he would speak to him about Hermione.

He wanted to know where she was and how she was doing. For more than three years he had forced himself to forget her, fighting endless agony at the thought of her life with someone else. Unfortunately he was also plagued by thoughts of her being alone. The only way he had been able to maintain his sanity was to remember that she had a lot of people who loved and cared for her. She had not been alone to cope with losing him and their child…Their innocent baby who had never gotten the chance to breathe its first breath or to be held by loving parents. How did she cope with that loss? Was she bitter? Did she blame him?

The only contact with the outside world that he'd had in the past few years had been a few visits from Potter, but even then, he had not allowed mention of Hermione. Their conversations had been about his parents and their well-being, Harry's continuing search for a way to get his conviction overturned and Draco's day to day life behind bars. He had forbidden his parents to write to him, just as he had forbidden her. That was not a selfless act, he did not do it merely for her sake, the man had a bit of the coward in him that everyone accused him as a boy. Draco was quite certain that he would have gone crazy if he had been kept abreast of Hermione's goings on.

Draco knew that his body was healing; he could feel the strength seeping back into his bones. His mother had told him the ministry was releasing his wand today. Soon, there would be nothing holding him back from going to her, nothing, but himself.

He was so engrossed in this musings that he didn't hear the door open.

"Soon you'll be able to get out of here," said Harry, walking into the room. "You can go back to your home, back to work, back to your life," Harry continued, staring out the same window Draco was looking through.

Draco's lip curled without his volition, and several seconds went by before he said, "Right, my life. Where is my life Potter?" he asked, turning to face Harry. "My life is wrapped up in a small, brown eyed witch that carries my world in her hand. Where is my life? I don't even know where to begin to look."

"All you have to do is ask, Malfoy," Harry replied. "All you've ever had to do is ask. You know that. It has been your choice not to know."

"Don't you think I know that? I thought that a life with her was out of the question; that I would be in Azkaban forever." Turning his gaze back to the sunset out his window, he continued, "How was I going to allow her to wait for me? She needed to carry on with her life. I didn't want to continue to ruin things for her like I'd done in school. Do you believe it's been easy for me not to hear her name, to shut her out of my life? I can assure you that it has only added to my hell"

Many minutes passed by as the two men stared out into the quickly darkening forest surrounding the hospital, each caught up in his thoughts, one standing with his hands in his pockets, the other sitting in a wheelchair. The shadows across the lawn were lengthening and before long it became difficult to see anything at all out the window. Harry was the first to speak.

"Draco, she's in America ."

"America?" Draco's head fell forward, as if he doesn't have the strength to hold it up. "Of course, why am I surprised?" he whispered so quietly that Harry almost didn't hear him.

The sight of the man looking broken shook up Harry, he'd never seen him look quite so beaten.

"You've got to understand," Harry began, "that it was the only way she could trust herself not to go to you."

"How long has she been there?"

"She left a few weeks after the trial and she's been there ever since. She lives in a small magical community in California, on the Western coast of the United States."

Afraid of the answer to his next question, he asked nevertheless. "Alone? Does she live alone?"

Not letting him suffer, "Yes, she lives alone. She got a job in the local library there," Harry answered quickly. "You know it seems like she finally gets to be the person she was meant to be," he continued. "She wasn't supposed to be caught up in all the shit that Voldemort caused. Her biggest love has always been books and she finally gets to do what she loves."

"Why do I feel as if there is a 'but' in there somewhere?" asked Draco.

It was very apparent that there was a big 'but' that Harry was trying to hedge around. "She had it tough in the beginning. Moving is never easy and moving to a different country, without friends or family, is worse," he began.

"I get it Potter," snapped the blond, "just spit it out!"

"I just want you to know how it was after you left," snapped Harry right back, "She was all alone, for the second time in her life and it wasn't easy!"

"Just. Say. It," demanded Draco through clenched teeth.

"She's found someone else," burst out of Harry's mouth before he could stop himself.

All the bravado Draco had been mustering was wiped away with those four words. The only sound he could hear was the roaring in his head; the only feeling was that of his heart trying to beat itself out of his chest. In the back of his mind he kept telling himself that he wasn't surprised. Of course she had found someone else. It's what he asked of her, to go on without him. Then why did it fucking hurt so much to hear it?

The look on his face was enough to make Harry ramble on, "This bloke seems to be a nice guy, but I don't believe she loves him. She has been communicating with Ginny who doesn't seem to believe Hermione loves Josh, that's his name by the way; anyway, Ginny doesn't think its love either." Harry's face was flushed at the end of his bumbling statement, but Draco seemed as if he hadn't heard a word he had said.

The truth was that even if he tried denying it, he had always dreamt that he would get out one day and claim her as his own once again. He had never allowed himself to envision the way it would play out, but the ending was always the same, her in his arms. Well there was no going back now. She had Josh now, fucking pathetic name, and Draco would do whatever it took to ensure her happiness and something told him that keeping his release from her would be the best thing for her happiness. If it were up to him, she would never know he was a free man again.

With this thought he turned to Harry. "Right. Well, that's that," he said. "When can I start work again? You need to make sure I'm sent out of the country and I want you to promise me she won't find out that I'm out"

"That's it then? Didn't you hear me?" asked Harry. "She doesn't love him. Go to her," at Draco's unresponsiveness he continued, "I can't believe you're going to forget about her," an incensed Potter hissed. "I can't believe it. I thought you were different, but I guess you've gone back to being a spineless git!" he spat. "It would take a hell of a lot more than a mere ocean to keep me away from Ginny."

"Fuck you Potter," the words were spoken in a deceptively soft voice, "everything I do is for her and none if it is your business."

"No, Draco, fuck you and all this self-sacrificing bullshit. All it has gotten you and Hermione is heartache," Harry was still trying to reason with him, "Stop being a martyr and be the man she thinks you are."

After several minutes with no response from Draco, Harry turned and walked to the door. He stopped as he was opening it and turned to the man in the chair, "As soon as you're released you can come to the office for your new assignment."

When Draco indicated he had heard with a small inclination of his head Harry continued, "And don't believe for one moment that it is none of my business, I'm through with letting her get hurt. She'll be here, you know," He mercilessly continued, "In a few weeks George is getting married you know she won't miss the wedding." Green eyes bored into gray before he said, "If you make me do this, I you say I have to keep this from her, you better believe that _**I.**__**Will.**__**Not.**_ Let you waltz back into her life when you realize you've made a mistake!" With a last exaperated look, Harry made his exit with a slam of the door.

As Draco stood still as a statue, it took more control than he thought he had, to not rip the room apart. She was lost to him. Again.

**~Twice Loved~**

A week later, having waited until everyone else had gone home, a much healthier Draco walked into Harry's office at the Ministry of Magic. The difference in his appearance was dramatic. The simple, but elegant, tailored robes were a testament to the fact that the wizard that had been pulled from the dank cell in Azkaban was gone, replaced by a man that had a slight resemblance to the wizard who had once killed to protect his fiancée. There was a lot of disparity between the old Draco and this new version, upon close inspection there was a chilling aura around him. The once flawless face was marked with several small, but permanent scars, the mouth was set in a grim line and the eyes…the eyes gave the impression that they could see right through a person, eyes that appeared to belong to someone many years older.

Harry didn't need to say anything at all to him. He simply held out a file with the information he needed for his mission to Kyrgyzstan. Draco took the folder, gave Harry a curt bow and left just as quietly as he had arrived.

**~Twice Loved~**

Draco's assignment sent him to the South Western Fergana Valley. After three weeks of temperatures above 104 degrees he was ready to leave the impoverished country in the former Soviet Union. The dilapidated room he had been living in was infested with rodents larger that Hermione's old cat and there was a suspicious stench that permeated the whole place.

Maybe it was his continued bad luck that the Ministry had paired him with Dominick Kurov, a large, hairy man, with overactive sweat glands. Maybe, but it was more likely Potter's way of getting back at him. Kurov's accent was almost impossible to understand, and he talked non-stop. It was a form of torture for the wizard who only wanted to do his job and be left alone.

Three weeks was all it took for him to find and arrest Henry Lonquist, a former Death Eater, who had been on the run since the end of the war. Draco found him at a local market and the man swore he had changed his ways, a claim that was hard to believe given that he was selling cursed pottery to unsuspecting muggles.

Although Kurov was expecting to be the one to transport Lonquist to the Ministry, Draco made a last minute decision.

He was going back. He would deal with Potter, Josh or whoever stood in his way. She would be here in a week and he was getting his witch back.


	18. Chapter 18

**B ****Disclaimer- Okay, again, I don't own Harry Potter, the characters, or anything dealing with it, it all belongs to the amazing ****J.K. Rowling****. Only the plot is mine.**

**A/N: Okay so I totally messed up trying to clean up an old chapter this weekend. It made it seem like I had updated when I really hadn't…So I decided to bite the bullet and crank this out today. Just one more chapter and maybe an epilogue left. You people are great…a bit scary, but wonderful all the same.**

_**Desperation**_

"No!"

"I hope you don't think I'm asking you for permission."

"You made your decision, you're not going back on it now."

"She's mine!"

"WAS!"

"IS! Always."

"You wrote her off, don't you remember? You said that staying away would be best for her. You decided, not us."

"Listen, I know I fucked up, I know I did everything wrong, but it stops now! I won't lose her again! Potter," he turned and addressed the wizard sitting at the kitchen table, "please get your wife under control."

Draco had appeared at their door two hours ago. The shouting commenced shortly thereafter. Ginny was refusing to allow Draco any contact Hermione. Draco was refusing to back down. They had both dug their heels in and were refusing to budge. Harry was at the end of his rope.

"All right, that's enough," he said in a dangerously low voice. "If you're quite finished with your shouting match," looking at both the culprits, "can we please sit down and try to figure this out."

Reluctantly they did as they were asked. It was difficult for them to keep silent, each one knowing that they were in the right.

"Draco," Harry began, "what exactly did you have in mind? Did you honestly believe that it would be a good idea to show up at midnight to try to get information about Hermione?"

"I literally just flooed in. I didn't want to wait another day. I've been without her for too long as it is and," Draco glared at Ginny, "this would have gone a hell of a lot more quickly and been extremely nice if your wife had just told me what I need to know."

"It would also be nice," Ginny injected, "if it would rain Bertie Botts Beans, but neither one of those things are going to happen," she ended with a glare of her own.

"Stop," said a very tired sounding Harry, "the longer you two keep this up the longer it will take to iron it out."

"Listen Potter, I'm not asking for permission to claim what belongs to me.."

"Harry you know how I feel about this, she's finally found peace…" they shouted at the same time.

Harry was finished with being patient. "ENOUGH! Ginny, go back to bed," he said as he rubbed his tired eyes, "and Draco, you and I will discuss this at my office. In the morning!"

**Twice Loved**

A much more subdued Draco sat across from Harry a few hours later. The uncomfortable chair faced the back of the office and the window located behind Harry's desk. A normal person would have noticed what a beautiful day it was, but Draco was too preoccupied to bother with that. A couple of hours of sleep did a lot to clear his head. He knew that he had to handle this situation carefully because he needed to have Harry's blessing when it came to Hermione. He could always find the information he needed but he wanted to do it the right way. He didn't want to cause her to have to choose between them.

His first words to the silent wizard in front of him were, "I want the opportunity to present her with a choice. To let her choose if she is still willing to live the life we had planned, before all this shit happened."

Harry's demeanor gave nothing away, but it was evident that he had gotten very little sleep after Draco left his house earlier. His hair was unrulier than usual and his robes looked as if they had seen better days. After a couple of minutes, Harry stood and walked to the front of his desk and leaned against it. It was almost possible to see the gears turning in his head before he spoke.

"Believe me when I say that I understand what you must be going through," he said, "but I have to think about Hermione right now." Harry continued, "She'll be here in a week. With her boyfriend," he emphasized, "and there's nothing you or I can do about that."

Before Draco could respond Harry continued, "I won't do anything to ruin Angelina's wedding," he pinned Draco to the seat with his eyes, "so I'm asking you to refrain from contacting her until the day after."

Draco felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders. At least Harry was not going to interfere with his attempts to win his lady back.

"Don't look so relieved," Harry said as he walked back around his desk and sat down, "you still have a long way to go before you're in the clear. You handled everything wrong from the very beginning."

"I know I did, but what did you expect of me, for me to hang on to her when it seemed apparent that I was going to rot in that place?" Draco asked. "I don't know what it is that you expected me to do."

Harry didn't hesitate to answer in a calm voice, "Hermione is an exceptionally intelligent person, I expected you to let her make her own decision. I expected you to know that she would know what was best for herself."

**Twice Loved**

Draco stood still as a statue behind the pillar as he watched the group of friends greet each other with hugs and kisses. The buzz of Heathrow Airport was drowned out by the humming in his ears. There, in the midst of the crowd, stood his heart. Her hair looked lighter, no doubt the effect of living in the California sun. She was thinner, almost too thin, but her face was beautiful as always. The golden tan she sported made her skin look like honey desperately wanted a taste.

He almost walked over to her, forgetting the promise he'd made to Harry, but then she turned and took the hand of the bloke standing behind her. Two things happened at once.

First, Harry caught his eye as he was about to lunge. The look in the man's eyes said "back the fuck off".

Second, Draco got a good look at Hermione's face. She was smiling, chatting and laughing, but she didn't look happy. Her eyes, her eyes held sadness in them that he had never seen. It was all just a front. In all the years he'd known her he had seen her happy, troubled, frightened and angry, but never this sad.

He had done this to her. His decision had caused her to lose the sparkle of happiness. And he would do whatever it took to fix this, to fix her. It was the thought that he still had a chance to be with her that prevented him from destroying Josh. He knew that he had to get the hell out of here before he compromised his resolve to wait. There was no way he could be in the same place with them if that idiot kept putting his hands on her, no way he'd be able to remain hiding. With a last look at his love, Draco turned and walked away.

**Twice Loved**

Draco went behind a column at Heathrow and quietly apparated away, going to the only place he had right now and landed in the foyer of manor. His parents had disposed of his old flat when he was sent to prison and he had not looked for another place yet. He was waiting to see where things went with Hermione. All his artwork and furniture were being stored in the attic of the manor, awaiting the outcome of his confrontation with her.

Just thinking about it made Draco's heart race. As difficult as it was to think of her without going to her, real fear kept him in place. He had to make sure that he did this right. He couldn't chance losing her forever. Soon, a couple of days more, and he would be able to see her, speak to her, try to explain his reasoning to her. One thing was certain; he could not live without her. Merlin help him.

"What has you in such deep thoughts my love?"

Draco turned to see his mother looking at him from the sitting room entryway. How was it that she always seemed to be near when he needed her?

"Nothing much Mother, merely the chances of me ever getting my happy ending," he replied. At the questioning look from his mum, he clarified, "I want her back so badly, that I'm terrified that I'm going to completely mess this up more than I already have."

Narcissa walked over to him and hooked her arm through his. "Walk with me," she said as she led him to the French doors that led to her private garden. The two of them strolled around the beautifully manicured yard in silence for a bit before Narcissa asked the question million dollar question, "So, what are you planning to do son?"

"I really have no idea, that is the crux of the dilemma, isn't it?" Draco knew he was looking to his parent for answers that were not easy to give. "I had everything in the palm of my hand and I threw it all away in a fit of rage." He continued to talk as they walked, pulling at his hair in frustration, "I made such a big deal of her not contacting me and moving on, that I essentially abandoned her to deal with the loss of our baby on her own. And now, she's moved on and has someone new. She's come back for the Weasley wedding, but she's brought _him _with her. Potter's right, I fucked up bad and I don't deserve to have a second chance."

"Language Draco," reprimanded his mother, "I know things look bad right now and they seem a bit," she said as she sat on the marble bench by the yellow roses she had planted the year after the war finished, "complicated, but," she said a she held up a hand to silence him before he said something sarcastic, "you need to remember one tiny fact that you seem to be overlooking."

Draco looked at her and shook his head, "And what would that be mother?"

She looked at him with a knowing smile, "There is not a person alive who is more loyal than Hermione Granger. She stood by Harry's side, through all the turmoil he encountered, she never waivered in her loyalty to him. She defended the Weasley's every time someone ridiculed them. Her loyalty to them is apparent in the fact that she would come here knowing that it would be painful for her to do so," she continued, "People in our world have always admired her intelligence, and I do to, but not as much as I admire her for her steadfast dedication to those she loves and Hermione Granger loves you. Not this wizard she has brought with her. She loves you."

"How can you be so sure," Draco asked as he looked down at his mother, "after all this time? A whole lifetime has passed."

"Sit down dear," Narcissa said as she gently urged him to join her on the bench, "I'm sure she still loves you because I saw the way she looked at you every time you were together, I saw how devastated she was when everything fell apart, and I know that she would not have stayed away for all this time if she didn't love you."

He wanted to believe her, but he also knew that it was a long shot at best.

**Twice Loved**

After a long night of tossing in bed without any sleep, Draco was dealing with such a high level of anxiety that he had to force himself not to seek her out. He couldn't remember feeling like this since he was in solitary confinement. The need to see her, if nothing else, prompted him to steal away to Diagon Alley in hopes of catching a glimpse of her.

A simple concealment charm was enough to distort the color of his eyes, the shape of his nose and mouth and, with the scarring on his face, he was reasonably certain that he would just be someone who looked a bit familiar.

His premonition proved true when he spotted her walking toward a small shop at the end of the street. For the first time since he had left her yesterday, his anxiety evaporated, his heart beat a steady beat, as if it knew that its reason for existing was close. She looked a bit harried, running late as usual, he thought with a smile. He could see the witches and wizards on the street stop and stare at her, he could also feel her apprehension; she hated the attention she got. Draco made sure that he kept out of sight as he followed her as far as he could. She was met by Angelina in front of what turned out to be a dress shop, but she turned back before she went in, as if she was looking for someone. Draco took that as a sign that he had better leave before she saw him.

Sitting in the pub later that afternoon, Draco didn't know how to process his mother's words from the day before. He prayed that he would be able to sort this out in his favor. Every fiber of his being was wracked with pain at the thought of not having Hermione in his life, but his heart kept a steady stream of hope pulsing through his body.

As he sat there he thought back to the night he had seen her dancing with another man at that nightclub. How he wanted to throttle the man for daring to touch her and now he wanted to dismember the asshole that came to England with her. He couldn't do what he'd wanted to then and he unable to do it now. Well, fuck.

He was careful to sit in a dark corner, away from the general public as he couldn't afford to have someone recognize him and word get back to her before he was ready to confront her.

He had just noticed that the place was quickly becoming filled with employees of the Ministry when he saw them. Harry was sitting on the other side of the room with a group of men. Draco's eyes immediately locked on the dark haired wizard sitting next to George Weasley. An unreasonable fury threatened to overtake for the second time in as many days, but it was merely a drop in the bucket compared to the rage that seemed to sear his very soul when a couple of minutes later Hermione walked in and greeted him with an embrace and kiss. He couldn't hear their conversation but their bond was more apparent tonight than it had been the yesterday at the airport. I damn near killed him.

Draco had not allowed himself to cry when his child died, or when he was told the Wizengamot's verdict at his trial, or when he was beaten to within an inch of his life. All those moments, he had been victorious in the battle to control his emotions, but this, this was too much and he was too tired to fight anymore. As the tears gathered in his eyes, he quietly walked to the nearby corridor, her scent seeking him out as he apparated away.

**Twice Loved**

He could not say he was surprised to see Draco leaning against his front door at three in the morning. The man was becoming a bit predictable.

Harry moved back so that the man could enter, "I saw you there tonight mate. What were you thinking?" he asked as soon as they got to the kitchen. "We had an agreement, no contacting her until after the wedding, did you forget?"

"Years, Potter, it's been years," Draco didn't try to deny it, "Could you keep away from Ginny if you were separated this long and suddenly she was within touching distance?"

Reply to:

Silence.

"I didn't think so."

They didn't say anything for several minutes, Harry sat at the table, his hands making a mess of his already rumpled hair. Draco paced back and forth with his hands in his pocket, as if he was forcing them to keep still.

"Look Malfoy, I'm not telling you.."

"Potter, you have to unders…"

"I'm just saying that what if someone.."

"I tried to stay away, but it was.."

"The shit pile we would have been left w…"

"I don't give two fucks about the wedding!" Draco's harshly whispered words stopped Harry's argument. "Short of you arresting me again, nothing is going to stop me. So," desperation consumed his features, "please, tell me where she's staying."

The defeated look Harry wears plainly showed he had been expecting this all along. After several long moments he said, "Tomorrow evening. She'll be at the rehearsal in the evening, but," he quickly added, "you need to let me break it to her. Draco, I'm serious, you have to let me tell her that you're free and then, and only then," he pinned the man with his eyes, "if she wants to speak to you, I will send her to you and you can have your say."

Draco wanted to argue, he wanted to shout, but he held his tongue. He knew that Harry was right and that this was the way it should go down. Merlin knew that he had made all the wrong decisions when it came to him and Hermione.

**Twice Loved**

The fluttering was back in his stomach. The blasted feeling refused to be kept at bay. He knew he would see her today and he had no idea how to handle it. He had hurt her so bad that he seriously doubted that she would ever let him back into her life. Being without her for so long had changed him. Even though he had handled the whole thing wrong, the results had been good for him. Ron knew that leaving Hermione had almost destroyed her and he was sorry for that, but he was also sure that he had done the right thing.

Living in Australia had a lot of benefits, the least not being that there was a lot less people there than in the United Kingdom. The first months after he left Hermione were the most difficult months of his life. He had left everything and everyone he loved behind, waking up most nights screaming and covered in sweat. The only peace he had been able to find was in the solitude of his new environment.

When his mother told him about Hermione and Malfoy dating, he had rushed home to talk some sense into his ex-girlfriend and maybe even try to work things out with her, but the events that occurred during that visit made that an impossibility. Instead of reconciliation, he was left with more regrets and feelings of guilt. After Malfoy's trial he had returned to Australia. For him, that whole ordeal was validation for his years of living in fear for her safety and he was wracked with more nightmares. In a desperate move to save his sanity he decided to try a muggle cure. He sought therapy and found Dr. Elizabeth Morehead. The beautiful young muggle doctor had been his salvation. Her piercing green eyes belied her quiet demeanor, but were a testament to her inner strength.

His first sessions had been awkward because of the necessity for him to alter some of the facts concerning his situation. She, obviously, would not understand his night terrors concerning a wizard war. Apparently his ability to lie was shit, because Dr. Morehead had called him on his bullshit. It was that conversation that led to him quitting therapy and asking her out to dinner.

It was not very long after their first date that Ron realized that he was falling for this redheaded angel and after six months he had sat her down and confessed his life story to her. It required some fancy wand work and a trip to the Burrow for her to be convinced that her new boyfriend wasn't completely insane, but in the end, she had believed him and was better prepared to help him deal with his issues. Now, a year later, Elizabeth had all but wiped away his nightmares. When he asked her to marry him, she had said yes, with one condition. She wanted him to make amends with his ex-girlfriend/best friend.

To be completely honest, Ron knew that he would have to meet with Hermione again one day. He felt like a complete tosser for not going to see her in America, he had many opportunities, but he had been too scared to follow through with it. He knew that this was the right time. He was prepared to do whatever he needed to do to make everything up to her.

With a quick prayer and a shaky breath he apparated into the house in the Burrow. A couple of seconds later he was face to face with his sister and Harry.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19 – To Breathe Again

**Not mine. JK Rowlins own the lot. I do not make anything off of this except some self-gratification.**

_To be completely honest, Ron knew that he would have to meet with Hermione again one day. He felt like a complete tosser for not going to see her in America, he had many opportunities, but he had been too scared to follow through with it. He knew that this was the right time. He was prepared to do whatever he needed to do to make everything up to her. _

_With a quick prayer and a shaky breath he apparated into the house in the Burrow. A couple of seconds later he was face to face with his sister and Harry. _

Twice Loved

What Ron was _not_ expecting was to find Harry and Ginny in the middle of an argument. Judging by the color of his sister's face, she was about to explode. Ron couldn't quite piece together what was going on and he certainly couldn't decipher anything from their harshly whispered words.

"…don't think so!"

"I knew you would react like…"

"Really? You think that this is a place to…"

"I'm just saying that we can contain the situation,"

"You should've contained him!" Ginny was almost nose to nose with her husband now.

"Umm…hello" he interrupted them.

They turned in surprise, momentarily forgetting their disagreement. Harry looked as if he swallowed a grub, Ginny's frown turned first to a surprised smile, then a confident smirk. "Ron, you have impeccable timing."

Her husband's face started turning almost the exact shade of red as his wife's. "Ginny, you honestly think this is a good idea? Telling him now?" Harry whispered incredulously. "There are people sitting just outside! She's probably out there as well. This could all blow up in our faces if she catches wind of this before…"

"You should have thought of that before you agreed to let _him_ talk to her. I think Ron's input will be the deciding factor, we need a third party's input!"

Ron stood in the middle of the cramped kitchen with one hand in his pocket and the other in his hair, looking bewildered and getting more anxious as the seconds ticked by. What in the bloody hell was going on?

"I think you both need to calm down and tell me what all this is about," interjected Ron. "Harry?" he prodded.

After a brief hesitation, Harry resignedly turned to his friend and started talking. He began by telling Ron of the disturbing rumors that had reached the ministry regarding the conduct of some of the guards at Azkaban. Ron had no idea how any of that, as bad as it sounded, could have anything to do with an argument between Harry and Ginny on the night of George's rehearsal dinner.

At the look of confusion on Ron's face, Harry then began telling the series of events that led up to Draco's hospitalization and subsequent release from Azkaban. He told him of the conversations he had with Draco regarding Hermione while the former Slytherin was at Montrose and how he sent him out of the country after agreeing not to tell Hermione of his newfound freedom. The more he talked, the more his friend looked as if he wanted to throttle him. By the time Harry reached the point in which Draco visited him the previous night Ron was standing with his mouth agape, taking shallow breaths; trying to form some kind of coherent sentence. He had come here thinking that this was going to be the time for his and Hermione's reconciliation, that the timing was finally right, only to walk into a ticking time bomb about to go off.

"Look, I know that it's a lot to take in at once," said Harry as he turned and saw the look on Ron's face, "but we have to decide on what to do. She's going to be here soon and I promised Draco that I would send her to hi..."

As soon as he had heard Draco Malfoy's name, Ron was certain that he really didn't want to know the story, but Harry had continued and now it was too late. It was too much for Ron to bear, "Are you fucking joking with me?" He shouted at Harry as he advanced on him. "The fuck! Do you honestly believe I give a shit about what you promised Draco Malfoy?" By now he was towering over the shorter man. "What the hell were you thinking?"

An instinct for self-preservation made Harry step away from his enraged friend before answering with a question of his own, "Do you think this has been an easy situation to defuse?" he asked. "It's been a nightmare Ron. By keeping quiet about all this I thought I was doing what was necessary for the greater good of…"

He loudly interrogated, "Bloody hell Harry! What do you mean you're doing it for the greater good? What the fuck does that even mean?"

"Will you hold your voice down?" hissed Harry, and then in a calmer tone, "It means that I had to do what was right for Hermione. It means that sometimes ignorance is better than pain, I had to decide if the chance of her getting hurt was worth her finding out that..," Harry was once again prohibited from completing his sentence when the rustic old door was thrown open and he was confronted by an extremely annoyed-looking George, a curious looking Josh and a wide-eyed Hermione.

Harry, Ron and Ginny stood frozen in their spots in an almost comical way. It was as if they had been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

George was oblivious to everything except the possibility of a fight ruining the whole affair. He barreled in on Ron. "Oi, there! What do you think you're doing mate?" he raged as he grabbed the front of his jumper, "You'd better have a damn good reason for all this shouting little brother or you will soon wish you'd never come home."

"It's them you should be shaking," said Ron pointing at Harry and his sister.

"Ahem.." The two brothers turned at the sound of Hermione clearing her throat.

"Hey Mione," said Ron as he disentangled Georges hand from his jumper, "Wow, you look great! It's been ages," he said as he turned to look at her. "America huh? Um, you been here long?" He realized he was rambling, but seemed unsure of how to stop. He was put out of his misery when Hermione gave him a small smile, walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him. For a few moments, it was just the two of them reconnecting after years of separation. His arms went around her as she laid her head on his chest. It was as if his world was back on its axis without him even being aware of its being off until now. It took only a second in each other's arms to wordlessly ask for and receive forgiveness. He knew, in that very moment, that he would never stop loving this woman and he would do anything in his power so that she could find happiness again.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Harry and Ginny were quietly slipping to the back of the pack and he wasn't sure how he had managed to become the bad guy again, but he sure as hell was going to make sure that Harry made this right. George seemed to have calmed down and was observing the goings on with a smirk on his face.

Before Ron could call attention to the two culprits, Hermione turned and reached her hand out to the bloke standing by the doorway, "Josh, come on then, I want you to meet Ronald," she said. Gently pulling on Josh's hand she turned back to Ron and introduced him to her boyfriend, "Ron," she said with a small smile, "I would like you to meet Josh."

Josh's hand shook his firmly and Ron was momentarily taken aback as he hadn't expected for Hermione to have brought someone with her. He knew she was seeing someone, Harry had mentioned it a while ago, but he was still surprised she had brought him here. This was bound to make things messier.

"Josh, good to meet you mate."

"Same here man. I've heard a lot about you."

"Yeah, well, you can't believe everything you hear," said Ron with a sheepish grin.

"Ronald," Hermione interrupted, "how've you been?" she asked, never taking her eyes off her old love. She felt so many conflicting emotions as she stood before him, but the greatest one of all was happiness. She was truly happy to see Ron, to see him looking healthy and content.

"I've been alright, you know, just trying to get by," Ron looked around, took a hold of her hand and asked in a hushed tone, "Do you think you and I could sit and talk a bit? Alone?" he added with a look at Josh.

**Twice Loved**

The sun was almost set, the sky brilliantly enrobed in pinks, gold and oranges. Two former lovers sat away from the rest of the gathering, on an old bench underneath a tree that had been witness to many of trysts by the same two people.

He asks, "How have you been? Be honest with me please."

She sees the anxiety in his eyes, "I'm not going to lie, I was in a bad place for a while. It was difficult to find a reason to keep going" and reaching for his hands, "but everything is much better now. Honestly. California is great. I love my little house by the sea, I've made amazing friends, and I'm going to be alright, no, correction, I am alright."

Unable to meet her eyes, "I'm so sorry for everything I've done; you know that, don't you? I should have never turned my back on you. I should have trusted you, should have known that you knew what you were doing."

"Are you talking about before or after you left?" was her quiet reply.

"Both, Hermione, I should have had more faith in your ability to stay safe, and," he said looking at her at last, "when I came back, I should have stood by you in your decision about Malfoy, and I sure as hell shouldn't have stayed away from you all this time. Please say you can forgive me."

Her flinch at the sound of his name did not go unnoticed. She could spout out all day about being better, but it was evident that she was not over Draco.

"Please don't." she said, "Please don't beat yourself up over this. The truth is that we were both to blame for the way things ended for us."

"How can you say that?" Ron asked incredulously. "I left you broken that night, I ran away without a backward glance. I knew you were destroyed, I saw it in your eyes and I left anyway. You're not going to take the blame for this Mione.'

"I had known for a long time Ron," she quietly said, "I knew you were miserable and I did absolutely nothing about it. I ignored it, hoping it would go away, but it didn't, did it? I wanted the happily ever after so badly, that I was willing to look the other way when I saw you suffering. Can you forgive me?"

By this time, there were tears gathering in her eyes. The lifelong friends reached out and embraced each other, whispering words of forgiveness.

Many minutes later, after the sun had completely extinguished, the night illuminated by a crescent shaped moon and white lanterns hanging from the trees, Ron told her about his new life and the woman that had helped him heal. He explained how it was Elizabeth that had forced him to face and reconcile with his past. All was going well until Hermione asked the inevitable.

"Ron, what were you, Ginny and Harry arguing about?"

The moment Ron looked at her he knew he wouldn't lie to her. "Mione, do you love Josh? Does he make you happy?"

Her downcast eyes told him everything he needed to know. "What do you need Hermione? Tell me how to bring the light back into your eyes and I'll do it."

Her whispered, "Not fair Ron," was almost too soft to be heard.

With his fingers on her chin, he lifted her face up, "What's not fair is that you have to settle. You want to know what we were fighting about? _You_." he continued at her puzzled look, "Yeah, we can't seem to agree on what it is that we can do to make things right for _you_,"

"I don't understand."

"That's enough Ron!" Harry had somehow appeared without them hearing them, "You need to let me talk to her."

"You don't get to make the decision here Harry," said Ron as he stood his ground, "This ends now."

"You think you can just walk in here and take this decision out of my hands?" Harry was livid. "I've got this Ron, stand down."

"You tell her all of it then! Now. I won't leave until she knows everything." A hippogriff couldn't chase Ron away at this point.

Hermione looked the two men with wary eyes. Their arguing blurred to background noise as she tried to figure out what was going on. Something was incredibly wrong; she could feel it in her very bones. Her heart felt like it had on the night Ron had left her, as if it knew that it was about to be dealt a blow that may render it useless. The thought alone was enough to cause her knees to shake. Hermione was well aware that her feeble little heart could not take much more abuse, a fact that was further confirmed by a restless movement across the skin of her chest by her tattoo. Her little dragon was trying to protect that vital organ.

With a shake of her head she cleared all the cobwebs and tried to understand what the men were saying. Before she could make sense or any of it Harry and Ron both turned to look at her and froze. It was as if they had been hit with a freezing charm except for a look of panic on Harry's face and one of rage on Ron's. They seem to be looking over her shoulder.

"You were supposed to wait!" Harry was the first to explode, followed closely by Ron's "What the fuck are _you_ doing here?"

Then a quiet plea from behind her, "Hermione."

No. Impossible. How? No. That voice. Sweet God. Breathe. Breathe. Breath.

**A/N: I love this chapter. It has been a long time in the making. Even though her destiny seems to be with Draco, I don't believe she would have ever found contentment in her life if the rift between her and her first love was left gaping. Just saying…**


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